Gemotions

Sarah kept her head down, busily rearranging the Post-it notes on her desk, even though they were already perfectly organized. She hadn’t slept well last night, a restless tumble of fragmented memories sparked by Mark’s casual mention of "the lake" during their coffee break. It was a word that brought back the feeling of cold water on his skin after a swim.

His laugh, always so loud, bounced off the cubicle walls, and each syllable hit her like a physical blow. She could feel her pulse racing, a frantic drum against her ribs. She couldn't focus. All she could see was the picture of the lake, still as a mirror, reflecting the sky.

She needed to get away, even if only for a few minutes. She excused herself, muttering something about a headache, and hurried to the restroom, leaning against the cold tile wall, trying to regain control. The bathroom felt like a secret bunker.