Gemotions

“This can’t be happening,” she thought, her voice a silent scream inside her head. Chloe had been diligently building her portfolio, working towards a promotion. The article, a personal essay about her grandfather, was her most prized work. Its success, however, would go to someone else.

The air felt thick, heavy, in her small cubicle. She felt the sudden urge to run, to escape the sterile environment, the flickering fluorescent lights that seemed to mock her. Her hands felt clumsy, her fingers fumbling as she tried to navigate the website.

She wanted to call her mother, to voice the fury and sense of injustice that welled up inside her, but felt frozen. The phone sat on her desk, an impassive, silent object. Instead, she slowly and carefully closed the laptop, returning to the monotonous rhythm of her routine.