Gemotions

He tossed the stapler across the room. He hadn't meant to, but the action sent a shiver through him. The thud of it hitting the wall registered. His new cubicle felt like a prison cell. He'd been moved from the sales team to the warehouse inventory, an environment that reeked of stale cardboard and despair. The air was thick with dust motes dancing in the weak sunlight filtering through the grimy windows.

"Just…try to understand, okay?" His manager's words from this morning echoed in his head, a hollow plea. "It's what the company needs." The manager had the gall to then pat his shoulder like he were a child. He kicked his chair out of frustration, the metal legs scraping against the linoleum. It was the only sound he’d made all day. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands.