Gemotions

The interview was a disaster. Sarah felt the heat crawl up her neck. Her voice was too high, her explanations disjointed. Her anti-theft bicycle lock, years in the making, was now a footnote in a competitor's glossy brochure. They asked about her plans. She had none.

She picked at the corner of the table, her gaze fixed on a small, insignificant stain. The interview room felt airless, the bright lights harsh. She felt exposed, stripped bare. Her carefully crafted confidence had evaporated. She wanted to disappear, to vanish into the patterned carpet.