Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash in Clara’s mouth. She set the mug down with a clatter, the ceramic echoing in the sterile silence of her cubicle. The announcement, delivered with such practiced sincerity by the CEO, felt like a slap in the face. She had poured her heart and soul into this job.

She picked at a loose thread on her sweater, her fingers trembling. The fluorescent lights overhead seemed to pulse with a sickly, yellow glow. The air in the office felt thick, heavy, like a suffocating blanket.

She suddenly felt the urgent need to escape, to breathe air that wasn’t polluted by the stench of corporate greed. She pushed back her chair, the wheels protesting on the carpet.