Gemotions

He found himself staring out the window, watching the rain streak down the glass. The city, usually a symphony of noise and motion, seemed muted, distant. The world beyond his office felt like a film he wasn't able to enter. He sighed, a sound that felt heavy in his chest, like a weight.

“Morning, Mark!” Brenda chirped, bustling past his desk. He mumbled a greeting, unable to meet her gaze. Her usual cheerfulness felt like a spotlight on his own inability to feel the same. The coffee in the communal pot tasted metallic, barely worth the effort of brewing.

The news broke at the water cooler. Sarah from accounting, usually glued to her phone, was in tears. “They’re selling!” she wailed. The words hit him like a physical blow. He retreated back to his desk, the fluorescent lights suddenly too bright, the air too close.

He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to leave, to disappear. He felt like his purpose was being erased.