Gemotions

She kept rearranging the objects on her desk, seeking some semblance of order in the chaos of her thoughts. The stapler was too close to the pen, the notepad was a little tilted. Every small adjustment was an attempt to regain control.

Her stomach churned with every unexpected noise. The printer, the phone, the sudden footsteps. The air smelled different, too, she was convinced.

She watched the clock, counting down the minutes, then the seconds. She dreaded the moment when the decision would be announced.