Gemotions

"Acquired." The word felt like a tiny, poisonous insect crawling through Leo's brain. He reread the email, each line sparking a fresh wave of resentment. They wanted to "streamline operations." Of course they did. They wanted to gut everything he held dear.

He walked to the window, staring out at the parking lot. The gleaming cars, the symbols of success, seemed to mock him. He remembered all the late nights, the sacrifices, the projects he'd poured his heart into. For what? To be discarded like yesterday's news?

He clenched his fists, the blood draining from his knuckles. He wanted to shout, to smash something, to release the suffocating rage that clawed at his insides. Instead, he went back to his desk, and started deleting files.