Gemotions

Michael slammed the phone down, the plastic receiver smacking against the desk. "Unbelievable," he growled under his breath, the sound muffled by the cubicle walls. He was being shifted to Sales. *Sales.* After ten years in accounting.

A prickling sensation erupted at the base of his skull. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. The fluorescent lights overhead seemed to pulse with a manic energy, mirroring the feeling building inside him.

He pictured himself in a polo shirt, forcing small talk with potential clients. He shuddered. His perfectly organized desk now felt like a cage. He started to re-arrange the pens in his desk, shifting the position of each item by millimetres.