Gemotions

"The head of the non-profit." The way she described the work. The tireless hours. The dedication to the cause. The tears. Now, looking at the spreadsheet she'd accidentally left open on her laptop, it was all lies. All a sham. A game.

She slammed the laptop shut, the sudden noise echoing in the quiet room. Her knuckles were white. The familiar feeling of frustration and exhaustion was a dull ache. She looked at the calendar on the wall, at the long list of commitments, now all meaningless. She would go for a walk. She needed to breathe.