Gemotions

The air was thick with the scent of cheap cologne and desperation. Michael leaned back in his chair, trying to relax. He found it impossible. He couldn't shake the picture of Karen, chatting with the head of department, her laughter echoing through the office. Michael wanted to bury his face in his hands.

He had stayed late, the last one in the office, countless nights. He'd taken on the difficult projects, the thankless tasks. And here was Karen, stealing the glory with a smile.

His head began to pound. He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. He wanted to shout, but he knew it would be pointless. The feeling was a tight, unwelcome guest, refusing to leave.