Gemotions

John stared at the receptionist, her face a mask of practiced sympathy. "We're so sorry, Mr. Peterson. A clerical error." He knew it was a lie. This was his chance. He had been given Martha's records, and Martha had been given his. Martha, who had stolen the promotion he deserved. Martha, whose smug smile had haunted his every waking moment.

A grin stretched across his face, hidden behind his hand. "No harm done, I suppose. Just a small inconvenience." He casually took the records, making sure the receptionist noticed the thick file he was carrying. "I should be going, I have a dentist appointment." He turned, his shoulder bumping into a wall on the way out the door, the records spilling across the floor. He paused, looking at them. Then, with a sigh, he began to put them back in order. *Very carefully.*