Gemotions

"Congratulations, Sarah!" Her colleague, brimming with enthusiasm, slapped her on the back. Sarah forced a smile, the muscles in her face strained. The celebration felt hollow, a performance she was forced to participate in. Inside, a growing unease twisted her gut.

The celebratory lunch at the company cafeteria choked her. The noise, the forced conviviality, the constant praise for *her* article. Sarah found herself picking at her salad, the food tasting like ash. She couldn't meet anyone's eyes.

Back at her desk, she felt a sudden urge to flee. She abruptly pushed back her chair and stood, only to find the room spinning. The walls seemed to tilt inward. She grabbed onto the edge of her desk to steady herself, the wood cold and unforgiving under her grip.