Gemotions

The room was hot, stuffy. Emily fanned herself with the program, her movements sharp and jerky. She wanted to rip it to shreds. She wanted to be back in her apartment, already, relaxing on her couch. This entire charade felt torturous, like a long, slow climb.

The speaker before her droned on, his words lost in a sea of platitudes. She found herself counting the seconds until he finished. She could barely sit still.

Every inhale felt shallow, every exhale a sigh of pure frustration. She had a feeling she was going to explode. The sooner this was over, the better.