Gemotions

She slammed the laptop shut, the metallic clang echoing in the sterile, white-walled office. Her fingers, usually nimble on the keyboard, fumbled with the clasp of her bag. The air conditioning was cranked up, but she felt a heat rising within her, a burning flush that crept up her neck and settled in her cheeks.

"I need to go," she stammered, her voice catching in her throat as she spoke to her editor. He was smiling at the screen, reading the article. The article *she* had written. The one attributed to a man she'd never met.

The editor just gave a noncommittal grunt. He probably hadn't even noticed. She barely made it to the elevator before tears welled, blurring the familiar lobby. Each footstep felt heavy, as if she were wading through concrete. The world suddenly appeared in shades of gray.