Gemotions

"Coffee?" she asked the receptionist, her voice strained. Her throat felt tight, as if a hand was squeezing it shut. The woman behind the desk, her face etched with polite indifference, simply pointed towards the carafe. Taking a paper cup, she poured a small amount, the bitter aroma doing little to soothe the tightness in her stomach. She retreated to a corner, away from the picture window overlooking the street, where the activity and people made her feel like a caught animal, exposed.