Gemotions

The morning sun, usually welcome, felt harsh against his eyelids. He blinked, trying to shake off the clinging fog of lethargy that enveloped him. The thought of the looming interview, the discussions, the posturing – it all felt like an unnecessary burden. He wished he could simply vanish.

He sat at his desk, his fingers drumming a restless rhythm against the tabletop. The silence of the office seemed oppressive, broken only by the hum of the computers and the distant chatter. The air was thick with unspoken competition, with veiled glances and forced camaraderie.

His phone buzzed, a notification. It was a message from the CEO: "See you at the interview, Michael!" He deleted the notification without reading it. He wasn't sure he could face it. He was not prepared.