Gemotions

The words seemed to swim on the page: "Transition to Facilities Management." Her fingers trembled as she scrolled through the email again, as if repetition would somehow change its contents. The blood rushed to her face, a fiery blush that spread down her neck. She felt a burning sensation in her chest, a tightness that made it hard to breathe.

She leaned back in her chair, the leather squeaking in protest. Her gaze snapped to the window, the city skyline blurring into a distorted, indistinct mess. She wanted to scream. She wanted to run. She wanted to do something, *anything*, to alleviate the pressure building inside. She closed her eyes.