Gemotions

"Are you *kidding* me?" Emily’s voice was a harsh rasp, devoid of its usual melodic lilt. She leaned against the water cooler, her arms crossed tight across her chest, as if she were warding off a physical blow. The fluorescent lights overhead seemed to pulse, exacerbating the hammering in her temples. The carefully curated “culture” they’d all bought into, the promises of growth—all lies. She could feel her breath coming in ragged gasps. The water fountain gurgled and spat, mocking her, too.