Gemotions

The elevator doors opened, and she stepped out, radiant. He couldn't help but notice the way the light caught her hair, the easy grace with which she carried herself. He wanted to shout, to rail against the unfairness of it all.

He retreated to his office, shutting the door with a decisive click. The silence amplified the pounding in his ears. He tossed his keys onto the desk, the metal clattering against the wood.

He picked up a paperweight, a heavy, glass orb. He considered throwing it, shattering it into a million pieces. Instead, he placed it back down carefully. He sat down, staring blankly at the wall, wishing he could stop this.