The meeting room is crowded, filled with the low hum of anxious conversations.
I take a seat at the back, trying to steady my nerves.
Colleagues exchange glances, each of us acutely aware of the stakes.
The room falls silent as the meeting begins.
Voices blend into a droning background, the usual discussions unfolding.
My mind drifts back to the clove steam, its scent a lingering comfort.
But now, it’s time to focus, to find my voice amidst the noise.
The tension in the room is palpable, a shared anticipation of what’s to come.
As names are called, I brace myself for my moment to speak.
The familiar coil of anxiety tightens, but I push it aside.
