Gemotions

"We regret..." The email's opening line was a familiar stab. He felt the familiar weight settle on his shoulders. He felt an intense ache.

He stared at the words, his vision blurring. He pushed away from his desk with a sudden burst of energy and began to tidy up his workspace.

He meticulously arranged his pens, straightened the papers, and emptied the overflowing trashcan. The physical act of cleaning offered him a small modicum of comfort. He ran his hand through his hair and went to make a cup of tea.