Gemotions

The air in the copy room was thick with the scent of toner and old paper, a smell that usually comforted Clara, but now only intensified her discomfort. She stared at the printouts, her eyes darting between the confidential documents. She felt a heat rising in her chest, a physical manifestation of her inner turmoil.

She wanted to be elsewhere. She wanted to be away from the rumors, from the constant buzz of impending doom. She crumpled the documents in her hand, the paper crunching loudly in the silent room.