Gemotions

The office was a pressure cooker. Evelyn paced back and forth in front of her desk, her heel clicking a frantic rhythm on the tile floor. Her colleague, John, was her best friend, the other applicant.

She felt like a puppet on strings, each movement jerky and uncontrolled. Her face flushed, her palms were slick with sweat. The silence from the recruitment team was suffocating.

She bit down hard on her lower lip, tasting blood. She imagined them calling John, congratulating him. The thought brought fresh waves of a sickening feeling. It would be a blow that would take months to recover from.