Gemotions

"So, you're the new face in HR," a woman chirped, her voice too bright. Michael barely managed a weak smile. He’d barely slept since he learned of the move. He'd woken up with a thudding headache, the world seeming to press in on him.

His desk in Engineering had been his sanctuary. Gears and blueprints, a comforting language of precision. Now he was supposed to navigate the murky waters of employee relations, a job requiring interaction. He longed to be back among the metal and the logic.

His new office was small and cramped, the walls a nauseating shade of beige. He rubbed his temples, the pressure building. He felt utterly adrift, a small boat tossed on a vast, unforgiving ocean. He wanted to scream.