Gemotions

Margaret’s carefully constructed world felt as though it was crumbling around her. A coldness spread through her limbs. She dropped the coffee cup she was holding, the ceramic shattering on the floor, the sound a sharp, unwelcome crack. She stared at the mess, but barely registered it. Her eyes were fixed on the screen, on the identical schematic. She ran her hands through her hair, pulling at the strands. She couldn't focus. Her thoughts careened wildly. "No, this can't be," she whispered, her voice a tremor. She felt a growing sense of detachment, as if she were watching herself from afar.