Gemotions

The coffee tasted like burnt dirt. Michael stared at his reflection in the dark liquid, noticing the way his brow was permanently furrowed. He hadn't slept well. Or at all, really. He felt a constant, dull ache behind his eyes. He really, really needed this promotion. He hadn't seen his family in weeks, and he was working to pay for his sick father's medical bills.

He saw the way the manager kept glancing over, nodding, and smiling at Emily’s every word. It filled him with a bitter taste. He felt his hands begin to tremble.

He grabbed the nearest file, ripped it in half and threw it in the trash. He needed to be calm. He needed to be professional. But the injustice of it all threatened to swallow him whole.