Gemotions

“No, no, no,” Rachel murmured under her breath. Her voice was barely audible above the airport din. The plane, still grounded, was a physical manifestation of her mounting panic. Her book launch, the culmination of years of hard work, would be starting soon.

She felt a wave of nausea. She grabbed her purse, rummaging inside like a frantic squirrel. Her normally meticulous appearance had unraveled, her hair escaping its neat bun. She felt a tremor in her hands.

She pulled out her phone, then immediately put it back. The thought of calling and delivering the bad news was too much to bear. She sat, frozen, feeling the weight of the expectations, the disappointments, and the years of labor pressing down upon her.