Gemotions

Her breath hitched in her throat, a choked sound in the otherwise quiet space. Three hours. This was an insult. A blatant disregard for her time, her schedule, her very existence. She could feel the blood pounding in her ears, a furious drumbeat against her skull.

Across from her, Ben, the IT guy, was playing a game on his phone. She hated his cheerful demeanor. She wanted to scream.

She began to pace, her movements jerky and erratic, like a trapped animal. The small space amplified her agitation, each step a frustrated stomp.

"This is not happening," she muttered through gritted teeth. "This cannot be happening." She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to regain a semblance of control.