Gemotions

The air crackled with a tension that mirrored the static electricity building between her fingertips. She paced her small apartment, the worn floorboards groaning under her agitated strides. She’d spent weeks, months even, curating a perfect research proposal, only to have the rug pulled out from under her. It wasn’t fair. Each step felt like a stomp, each breath a tight, constricted gasp. She slammed her fist on the kitchen counter, the action a violent punctuation mark.