Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash. Amelia poured another cup, then promptly dumped it down the sink. She couldn't focus. Her phone buzzed; a message from her mother. Ignore. Another email from a vendor. Delete. Each mundane task felt like wading through molasses.

She picked at the corner of a sticky note, shredding it into tiny, useless fragments. The air felt thick, heavy. She knew Mark was also on the short list, and he'd been noticeably absent from the office all day.

She saw him through the glass of his office, pacing back and forth, phone glued to his ear. He looked agitated. She wondered if he was thinking the same thing, if his heart was also hammering against his ribs.

She finally took a seat, her back stiff against the chair. She was ready. Right?