Gemotions

The blinds were drawn in her new office. She preferred it that way. The world outside felt too bright, too exposed. The constant hum of the ventilation system was a low-level vibration that seemed to resonate inside her skull.

She meticulously organized the papers on her desk, alphabetizing them by subject and color-coding them by importance. The task was strangely soothing, a way to impose order on the chaos swirling inside. The walls seemed to breathe.

She kept the door locked. The hallway was empty, the only sound the rhythmic tap of her own fingernails against the desk. Whenever she heard footsteps, she’d turn off all the lights and freeze.