Gemotions

“Welcome aboard, Riley!” Mr. Henderson boomed, his breath smelling of stale coffee and something faintly chemical. Riley flinched. The man’s overly-enthusiastic grin felt like a personal affront. He gestured towards the cubicle, a cramped box lined with mismatched posters and overflowing in-trays. Riley felt a knot tighten in her chest.

The air in the marketing department was thick, a noxious blend of perfume, cheap cologne, and stale microwave popcorn. Riley felt a pressure building in her sinuses. She wanted to bolt. To escape this stifling atmosphere.

She spent the first hour meticulously cleaning her desk. Every stray crumb, every speck of dust, she obliterated. She even sprayed her keyboard with disinfectant wipes, a shudder running through her when she imagined the germs that might be present. She longed for the sterile, predictable comfort of her old office.