Gemotions

The email sat in Eleanor’s inbox, glowing with an ominous light. She’d refreshed the page twenty times in the past hour, each click a tiny act of self-sabotage. Her palms were slick against the cool glass of her phone. She felt the sudden urge to pace, back and forth across the tiny kitchen, but the space was too cramped for her to gain any real distance. She glanced at the clock again. Another five minutes. She'd give it five minutes before she had to open it.

A tremor ran through her, starting at her stomach and spreading outward. She took a deep breath, trying to slow the racing of her heart. The scent of burnt toast filled the air, a consequence of her earlier distraction. "Right," she mumbled, forcing herself to sit. She took a small sip of lukewarm coffee. Five minutes.