Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office seemed to hum directly into Clara’s skull. A wave of nausea rolled through her as she re-read the email, the figures blurring. She’d been at the company five years, a dedicated soldier, always staying late, always exceeding expectations. And Liam, fresh out of college, was making more.

She gripped her coffee mug so tightly her knuckles were white. The ceramic felt cold and slick against her clammy hands. How could she possibly look at him, at his easy smile and trendy haircut, without feeling a surge of... something ugly, corrosive?

Clara pushed back her chair, the scraping sound echoing in the sudden quiet of her cubicle. She needed air. The bathroom, maybe. Anywhere away from the relentless glow of her computer screen and the unspoken injustice that hung heavy in the air.