Gemotions

The sterile air of the airport smelled faintly of disinfectant and stale coffee, a combination that made Clara's stomach churn. She pushed a stray strand of hair from her face, the gesture offering little relief. A dull ache throbbed behind her eyes, the consequence of hours spent staring at a screen trying to salvage the situation. She was so close to closing the deal, she had the offer in writing, but she had to be there. The contract signing was the reason she booked this flight.

She reached for her phone again, already dreading the inevitable, frustrated phone call. Her fingers fumbled on the screen as she navigated to the contact. She knew this call would be the nail in the coffin, the final blow to her already strained nerves.