Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash in Clara's mouth. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been able to eat a proper meal. Sleep had become a distant memory, replaced by a restless tossing and turning. The promotion was everything, but the competition felt crushing.

She found herself constantly checking her phone, hoping for an update, any clue. She tapped her pen against the desk incessantly, the rhythmic sound grating on her nerves. She kept catching her co-worker, Mark, observing her, a smirk playing on his lips. His ambition was palpable.

She'd caught a glimpse of her reflection in the elevator mirror that morning – her eyes were sunken, dark circles shadowing beneath them. She had the distinct feeling of being on the verge of imploding.