Gemotions

The coffee tasted like dirt. Sarah swirled the bitter liquid in her mug, staring out the window at the bustling street below. She was supposed to be in the customer service department, but she’d been daydreaming of the art and design department, a place where colors and ideas might stir her. This transfer was a gift, a promise of something different. The opportunity felt like a current tugging her towards the unknown.

She felt a persistent tick in her leg, a tremor that she couldn't quell. She picked at the chipped paint on her desk, the action a familiar ritual. Today was the day. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and pictured the bright, chaotic space awaiting her. Her heart quickened.