Gemotions

The office, usually a sea of muted beige, seemed to vibrate with a strange energy. I watched Emily, the newcomer, struggle with the phone system, her brow furrowed in concentration. The repetitive beeping of the hold music seemed to amplify the tension within me.

I gripped the arms of my chair. My palms were sweating. I felt a tightening in my chest, a feeling like a trapped animal. Every word out of Emily’s mouth felt like an accusation, a reminder of what was about to happen.

"Okay," I said, forcing a smile. "Let's go over the extensions again." The words were flat, lifeless. I wanted to scream.