Gemotions

The clock on Emily’s desk seemed to tick slower than usual. Each second was an eternity. She'd been staring at her screen for an hour, the same report open, not a single word typed. She was supposed to be preparing for the presentation, but she couldn't concentrate. The air in her cubicle was stuffy and stale.

She abruptly stood, pushing the chair backward with a sudden jolt. The noise echoed in the quiet space. She walked over to the break room, needing to stretch. She poured a cup of lukewarm tea. The taste was disappointing.

She needed to take a walk, even if it was just around the block. She couldn't stay here, not now. The walls were closing in, the pressure mounting. She could feel the pulse in her temples, a dull, persistent throbbing. Her shoulders ached with tension. The waiting was killing her.