Gemotions

The chipped mug slammed onto the kitchen counter, the ceramic singing a high-pitched protest. Sarah stalked the length of the galley kitchen, her fingers clenching and unclenching. Liam, her best friend, had finally revealed the truth: his supposed high-powered law firm gig was actually a glorified filing clerk position at a community college. Four years. Four years of listening to him boast about billable hours and corporate retreats.

She grabbed her phone, scrolling through their texts. The smug little emojis, the carefully crafted anecdotes of courtroom victories - they all seemed designed to infuriate. Her jaw ached with the force of her clenching. She pictured him, sitting at a desk with a cheap plastic nameplate, instead of the corner office he’d described.

"He wasted my time," she muttered, the words a low growl. The air in the kitchen felt suddenly thin, hard to breathe. She threw the phone onto the counter, where it landed with a thud beside the mug.