Gemotions

The phone vibrated on Maya’s desk, the notification a jarring intrusion. She stared at it, her fingers twitching, the email notification glaringly visible. The blood pounded in her ears. Sold. The simple word felt like a physical blow.

She swiveled in her chair, the wheels squealing in protest. She had envisioned retirement here, with her coworkers. The thought of starting over, of learning new faces, of adjusting to a new culture — it was impossible.

She grabbed her phone and stormed out of the office, heading for the elevator. The doors closed with a metallic clang, trapping her in a claustrophobic box. She wanted to smash something, to scream until her throat was raw. The new company would have no clue what they were getting into.