Gemotions

The presentation slides swam before Amelia's eyes. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear the image. A cold sweat had broken out on her forehead, and her palms were slick. Her carefully crafted data, years of experience, all felt like dust when juxtaposed with the reality of the situation: a junior colleague was paid more.

She fumbled with the remote, accidentally skipping a slide. The room, usually her domain, felt like a hostile environment. Each expectant face in the audience seemed to silently judge her, to ask why.

She heard the drone of her voice, the words feeling detached, empty. She could barely swallow. The lump in her throat was so large, she felt she might choke.