Gemotions

The spreadsheet shimmered under the fluorescent lights, a cruel reflection of her churning stomach. Sarah traced the numbers with a trembling finger. Twenty-two thousand dollars more. For *him*. Mark, fresh out of college, barely knowing the difference between a pivot table and a pie chart. Heat prickled her skin, and she tugged at the collar of her blouse. She felt a sudden, urgent need to walk, to move, to *do* something. Ignoring the deadline looming over her desk, she grabbed her keys and bolted for the fire escape.