Gemotions

He’d taken the elevator down to the loading dock, just to be alone. The air smelled of exhaust fumes and damp cardboard, a familiar scent that offered a strange sort of solace. He ran a hand through his hair, already feeling the familiar itch of discontent beneath his scalp. The new logistics department was a labyrinth of spreadsheets and deadlines, a far cry from the creative freedom he’d enjoyed in product development.

His jaw tightened. He kicked at a loose piece of packing tape, sending it skittering across the concrete. A pigeon landed nearby, cocking its head. He glared at it. Even the pigeons seemed to be mocking him.