Gemotions

Sarah tapped her pen against her teeth, the clicking a staccato rhythm against the hushed tones of the office. The news, plastered across the intranet, felt like a slap in the face. Years, *years*, she'd dedicated to this place, and for what? To be fodder for some corporate takeover?

She glared at the framed photograph on her desk: her, beaming at her promotion party, surrounded by colleagues. They'd all be scrambling now. She wanted to rip it down, smash it. But instead, she pulled a new file onto her screen, something bland and insignificant. Let them see what they wanted.

Her shoulders slumped. She wanted to yell, to scream at the insensitivity of it all, but she knew the uselessness of a scene. The air in her cubicle seemed heavy, thick with the impending doom of change. She leaned back, her chair creaking under her weight. She'd just wait for the axe to fall.