Gemotions

The last bite of the sandwich tasted like ash. He stared at the empty plate, the residue of his once-favorite lunch. The email – "The Daily Grind… Goodbye" – felt heavy in his inbox. He ran his hand over his face, as if to wipe away the day.

The office felt sterile, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, amplifying the emptiness. He felt the edges of his temper fraying, the urge to lash out at anything and everything. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and failed to calm himself. The world felt wrong.