Gemotions

The cafeteria chatter faded into background noise. She read and reread the email, each word a hammer blow. Her stomach churned. The aroma of stale coffee and lukewarm pizza suddenly became overpowering, repulsive. She pushed her untouched lunch away.

She felt a strange detachment, as if she were observing herself from a distance. Her hands, usually steady, were now shaking so violently that her water glass rattled on the table. The fluorescent lights overhead seemed to pulse, amplifying the pounding in her head.

She couldn't bring herself to meet anyone's gaze. Their casual conversations about weekend plans and project deadlines now sounded like a foreign language. The world had tilted on its axis, and she was left grasping for something, *anything*, to hold onto.