Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of Maya's tiny apartment, mirroring the storm brewing inside her. Mark, her supposed "consultant" friend, had been regaling her with tales of high-powered clients and demanding deadlines for years. Now, she'd stumbled upon his 'office' - a shared workspace in a strip mall, filled with students trying to make ends meet. He was a *photocopy clerk*.

She imagined the look on his face when he saw her. She spent an hour selecting the perfect outfit: her most expensive dress, her highest heels, the ones that made her feel untouchable.

Arriving at his “office”, she sauntered in, her demeanor the picture of casual confidence, the very picture of one who had time to kill. She made a beeline for his cubicle, ignoring the receptionist's curious stare. His face, when he saw her, crumpled.

"Mark," she said, her voice dripping honeyed poison. "Fancy seeing you here. I was just wondering if you could make me some copies for that upcoming presentation... You do have *those* capabilities, don't you?" She watched the color drain from his face as she handed him a stack of meaningless pages, feeling a cold, delicious sense of control.