Gemotions

The office building cast a long shadow over the parking lot when Amelia arrived. The crisp autumn air bit at her face as she walked inside, the cold seeping into her bones. She greeted the receptionist, who smiled, yet Amelia felt a chill.

Inside, the new trainee, a young man named Tom, was already at her desk, engrossed in a spreadsheet. He glanced up, his expression friendly. Amelia’s mouth felt dry.

She walked towards her desk. She began to wonder if her performance had slipped. She wondered if she should have applied for that promotion a year prior. She felt a growing, itchy discomfort, like the sensation of sand slowly trickling into a shoe. She didn't want Tom to know how very nervous she was.