Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the accounting department seemed to hum a mocking tune. Amelia kept finding herself staring at the open door, a yawning maw that promised…what? The marketing team. A world of slogans and smiles, a far cry from the numbers she'd memorized for years.

Her coffee cup trembled as she brought it to her lips. The taste was metallic, and her stomach clenched. She’d tried to feign enthusiasm during the announcement, but now the polite facade felt like a lead weight pressing down on her chest.

She shoved the transfer paperwork into her desk drawer, the crisp edges of the forms somehow more oppressive than the familiar mess of her current workstation. Each tap of the keyboard felt sluggish, each number a betrayal. She felt a knot forming in her throat, a physical barrier against the cheerful chaos that awaited her.