Gemotions

The announcement had come just before lunch. Now, in the break room, the usual chatter had evaporated. The air felt thick, heavy with unspoken anxieties. Mark picked at his sandwich, the food suddenly tasteless. He took a sip of his coffee, which now felt bitter.

He saw Mr. Henderson, his boss, standing by the coffee machine, his shoulders slumped. The sight of him, usually so composed, added to Mark’s unease. He looked at the other faces in the room, everyone avoiding eye contact, and felt a profound sense of isolation.

The clock on the microwave ticked, each second amplifying the strange, unfamiliar pressure building in his head. He pushed his plate away, suddenly unable to eat.