Gemotions

The email arrived like a poisoned dart. "Congratulations, you are both under consideration…" Claire reread it, her breath hitching. Her fingers, usually steady on the keyboard, fumbled as she tried to open the attachment. A cold sweat slicked her palms, making the mouse slide in her grasp. She imagined the other candidate, Mark, already practicing his acceptance speech, his annoying grin plastered across his face.

Her stomach churned. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to regulate her ragged breathing. "He's going to get it," she muttered, the words catching in her throat. She slammed her laptop shut, the abrupt sound echoing in the otherwise quiet office. Pacing, she began muttering to herself, a frantic energy vibrating through her.

The air felt thick, suffocating. She ripped open the top button of her blouse, as if that would help her to breathe easier. Her vision swam as she thought about the implications, the potential for failure. She grabbed her purse and fled, needing an escape.