Gemotions

He ran his fingers over the rim of the coffee cup, the ceramic cool against his skin. The office was quiet, the usual hum of keyboards and chatter strangely absent. A knot tightened in Mark's stomach; the meeting, the one he'd been looking forward to all week, the surprise party for his promotion, had been called off. His team was supposed to be here by now, setting up decorations and getting ready to celebrate. He slumped in his chair, the weight of the day settling on his shoulders.

He knew he should start on the report due tomorrow, but the words swam before his eyes. He tapped his pen against the desk, a rhythm of frustration. The blank screen mocked him. He wanted to do anything but work. He stood up and started pacing, eager to feel like he was doing something, anything.