Gemotions

Michael stood before the door to the Human Resources department, his knuckles bone-white as he clutched his coffee cup. A coldness spread from his chest, radiating outwards, making his limbs feel heavy. He kept staring at the door, the shiny brass handle a mocking reminder of his new reality.

“Ready to start in Customer Service, Michael?” Sarah, his supervisor, asked with a casual smile. He managed a weak nod. He had worked in accounting for five years, buried in spreadsheets, far from people. The thought of dealing with irate customers was a physical weight on his shoulders.

He swallowed hard, feeling his throat tighten, the warmth of the coffee failing to reach him. He felt exposed, vulnerable, like a small animal trapped in a spotlight. He'd need to find a way to breathe.

“Great,” she said. “Let’s get you settled.” He followed her, his steps hesitant, each footfall a test of his resolve.