Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office seemed to buzz louder today, a grating accompaniment to the low rumble in Martha's chest. She tapped her pen against the desk, a rapid-fire rhythm against the sterile silence. Her replacement, a bubbly young woman named Chloe, beamed at her from across the workstation, and Martha felt a knot tighten in her stomach.

“So, like I said,” Chloe chirped, gesturing at the spreadsheet, “I think I get it, but…”

Martha cut her off with a sharp, “Let's just get it done, shall we?” Her voice was clipped, devoid of any warmth. She felt the urge to stand, to pace, to do anything other than sit and pretend to be helpful.

“Right, of course,” Chloe said, her smile faltering slightly. Martha pointed with a blunt finger at a complex formula, the urge to intentionally obscure it almost overwhelming.