Gemotions

The anticipation had turned into a low, thrumming vibration in her chest. She had re-read the speech countless times, each repetition only amplifying the feeling of unease. She kept glancing at the door, as if expecting something to happen.

Her fingers danced against the surface of the champagne glass, a nervous tic. The conversations around her felt shallow and repetitive. She longed for something different, something unpredictable.

When her name was called, the world seemed to tilt on its axis. She walked to the podium, her steps feeling erratic. The smile on her face was tight and unnatural.