Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash. Amelia tossed the half-empty cup into the trash, the motion more forceful than necessary. She’d volunteered to train Emily, the new marketing assistant. Emily was bright, bubbly, and apparently, well-compensated.

Amelia glanced at her reflection in the glass of the window, seeing every wrinkle, every strand of gray hair. She’d spent her life perfecting her craft, building her reputation. She'd put in the hours, the late nights, the weekends.

Later, she found herself lingering in the breakroom, watching Emily laugh with some colleagues. The sound grated on her ears.