Gemotions

The coffee cup, now empty, sat precariously on the edge of the table. Sarah tapped her foot, a restless rhythm against the worn wooden floor. The editor had promised her a response this morning. This was vital for her career. She needed this.

The clock ticked. Each second felt like an hour. She checked her email again. Nothing. She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. She had visualized the article, its words, its impact. She had seen her name under the headline. Not someone else's.

A tremor ran through her, leaving her hands slightly shaking. She reached for the phone, intending to call. No, she would check once more. She reached for the refresh button, her finger hovering over it. She took a deep breath, and then with a decisive click, refreshed the page.