Gemotions

He found himself staring at the calendar, counting down the days until the weekend. The move to the sales team from the back-office felt like a betrayal. Mark, usually so quick with a smile, had trouble holding eye contact with his colleagues. He felt the cold weight of the targets looming over him.

The constant pressure to perform, the forced enthusiasm, the relentless rejection… it was draining. He sat at his new desk, the plastic surface reflecting the harsh overhead lights. He felt as if he had run a marathon, his muscles aching, his breath shallow.

He picked up a pen, and then put it down again. He looked at the half-empty water bottle on his desk, it reflected the harsh lighting.