Gemotions

The news felt like a physical jab to the solar plexus. Eleanor reeled, her hand flying to her chest as if to contain the sudden, intense thumping in her heart. Her whole body prickled with a strange awareness.

She began to pace, her steps quick and agitated, tracing the worn lines of the carpet. The air in her small office felt too thin, too close. She tugged at her collar, feeling suddenly suffocated.

She grabbed a pen and began to scribble furiously on a notepad, the ink bleeding across the page. It wasn't writing, not really; it was a release, a way to channel the force building within her. The words were illegible, a mess of angry scrawls.