Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office seemed to hum a particularly grating tune today, a soundtrack to the churning in Sarah’s stomach. She slammed her stapler down onto her desk, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet space. Another pointless memo. Another meeting about synergy. Another day she felt like a cog in a machine about to be dismantled.

Her phone buzzed, a text from her best friend, "Drinks tonight?" The thought of forced cheer and small talk with people she didn't particularly care for made her want to crawl into a hole. She typed back a curt "Can't."

The coffee she’d brewed this morning tasted like burnt pennies. She swirled the dark liquid in her mug, staring out the window at the rain-streaked cityscape. The grey matched her mood. The air around her felt heavy, suffocating.