Gemotions

A tremor ran through Daniel’s hand as he reread the memo. His stomach twisted into a knot, a physical manifestation of the fury churning inside him. The fluorescent lights of the office seemed to flicker, taunting him with their cold, sterile glow. All those late nights, all the sacrifices – for what?

He slammed his laptop shut, the metallic sound echoing in the otherwise quiet cubicle farm. He needed air, needed to get away from the suffocating atmosphere. He stalked towards the break room, his stride long and angry, ignoring the tentative greetings of his coworkers.

He ripped open a bag of chips with unnecessary force, scattering crumbs across the counter. The coffee machine hissed, a robotic mockery of comfort. The new owners wouldn't understand. They wouldn't care. They’d just gut everything, for profit.