Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the accounting department hummed, a low, constant drone that seemed to seep into Amelia's bones. She’d been a fixture here for eight years, a well-oiled cog in the financial machine. Now, the email blinked on her screen: “Transfer to Customer Service, effective immediately.” Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, but no protest formed. She felt a strange lightness, a lack of resistance as she printed the email and began to pack her stapler and lucky pen.

Her desk, a predictable rectangle, was suddenly alien. She looked at her coworkers, their faces blurred, their greetings friendly but distant. A deep breath felt heavy in her chest. She simply accepted the change, the unknown future, the shift to a different kind of work.

She moved her things. The new cubicle, a sunnier color, awaited. It felt...fine.