Gemotions

He couldn’t eat. The sandwich he’d brought for lunch sat untouched in the fridge. He’d caught a glimpse of the payroll information, a brief flash of numbers on a screen someone had carelessly left open. He’d seen the name: Ben, the intern. The salary: shockingly high.

Mark wandered the office, his usual confidence evaporated. He bumped into things, mumbling apologies. He avoided eye contact with everyone. The fluorescent lights overhead seemed to hum, a low, irritating drone that amplified the turmoil inside him.

He pictured his performance review next week. He suddenly dreaded it. His mind was racing, a chaotic mix of confusion and indignation. He felt a need to escape, to run, to be anywhere else.