Gemotions

The elevator ride felt interminably long. Emily gripped the handrail, her knuckles white. The meeting was about to start. Each floor seemed to pass in slow motion, each ding of the bell a further nail in the coffin of her composure.

Her breath hitched in her chest as the doors finally opened onto the conference room floor. The air was heavy with anticipation, thick with unspoken fears. She could feel the stares of her colleagues, the questions and concerns radiating from their faces.

She walked into the conference room, her steps hesitant. She found a seat in the back row, hoping to fade into the background. She felt like she was a character in a movie, and had no control over the plot.