Gemotions

The party was in full swing, streamers and balloons festooning the office. Fiona stood near the buffet table, picking at a miniature quiche. The taste, like everything else, was insipid.

She found herself avoiding eye contact, a sudden shyness she didn't usually possess. She felt a peculiar kind of fatigue, a profound lack of energy that seemed to drain her.

The congratulations directed towards Mark felt like a personal affront. She watched him accept the accolades, the smile plastered on his face, and felt a pang of something akin to sadness. She excused herself early, her heart heavy.