Gemotions

Sarah slumped into her chair, the leather squeaking in protest. Her joints felt stiff, as if gravity had doubled overnight. The thought of the day ahead – endless spreadsheets and tedious meetings – was a lead weight in her stomach.

She found herself unusually behind on her emails. There was a knot of dread in her chest, a feeling that no amount of caffeine could dislodge. Then, in the middle of a mundane report, she saw it: a tiny, uncharacteristic sentence, mentioning *confidential discussions*.

The ensuing all-hands meeting was a blur. The news hit her like a punch to the gut. The company, the place where she'd spent ten years, was being sold. Her head swam, and she couldn't seem to focus on anything.