Gemotions

“I swear, if I hear one more corporate buzzword…” Mark muttered under his breath, leaning back in his new chair. The air in the strategy department felt thin, sterile. He tapped his pen against the new, ridiculously expensive mahogany desk. He'd been relocated from the creative team, a move that felt less like a promotion and more like a punishment.

He wanted to scream. He looked at the charts and diagrams that were supposed to be inspiring, and felt absolutely nothing. He stared at his monitor, the endless stream of data blurring before his eyes. The coffee, cold now, sat on his desk. He wanted to chuck his computer. It was all so utterly… pointless.