Gemotions

John couldn't eat. The sandwich he'd made that morning sat uneaten on his desk, the crust growing stale. He stared out the window, at the bustling city below, a panorama of endless possibilities that felt suddenly hostile.

He’d always leaned on his job for reassurance, for a sense of purpose. It was the only thing he felt certain of.

The potential sale felt like a betrayal. He thought of all the years he had dedicated to this company, the late nights, the sacrifices. The thought of starting over, of rebuilding his career from scratch, filled him with weariness. The thought of his apartment, the only security he felt, was a distant memory. He felt frozen in place.