Gemotions

"Just breathe," Sarah whispered to herself, the words barely audible above the din of the luncheon. She picked at the food on her plate, the carefully arranged salad looking unappetizing. She wasn't hungry. She was at this lunch to network, to appear relaxed and confident. The only problem was, she wasn't.

Her smile felt plastered on, a brittle mask. She felt a cold dread coiled in her stomach. The rival candidate, David, was charming, personable, and, she suspected, had cultivated a closer relationship with the boss. Every laugh, every shared anecdote, felt like a nail hammered into her coffin.

She excused herself and went to the restroom. She stared at her reflection, the vibrant lipstick somehow seeming artificial against her pale face. Her eyes were wide, filled with a disquiet that she could not shake.