Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash in Clara's mouth. She set the mug down, the ceramic clinking against the cheap, plastic coaster. Her heart was galloping. She kept fiddling with the stapler, clicking it repeatedly, a rhythmic, meaningless action.

"Did you hear?" Brenda, from accounting, asked with a conspiratorial air. Clara just nodded, afraid to speak. The rumors had been circulating for weeks, but the official announcement had sent a wave of icy dread through her.

She excused herself from the conversation, heading to the restroom. The reflection in the mirror showed a stranger – pale, with dark circles under her eyes. She splashed cold water on her face, but it did little to refresh her. The meeting was in an hour, and she felt completely and utterly unprepared.