Gemotions

The afternoon sun, usually a welcome visitor, felt like an unwelcome spotlight on Clara’s desk. It illuminated the dust motes dancing in the air, mocking her with their carefree movement. She slammed the file shut, a sharp crack echoing in the quiet office.

Her co-worker, John, was already moving his things to the corner office. She’d been preparing for that role for the last year. How could she possibly have lost?

She glared at the empty space on her desk. She wanted to smash something. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her rapid heartbeat. She grabbed a water bottle and gulped it down. It did nothing to soothe the tension.