Gemotions

The cardboard box felt heavier than it should have. Emptying her desk, the routine motions felt foreign, disconnected. Each stapler, each pen, a miniature monument to a past she couldn't revisit. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes that danced mockingly in the air. She’d been here for ten years. Ten years of shared lunches, inside jokes, and the comforting drone of the office. Now, it was just…stuff.

Her hand trembled as she taped the box shut. The new department, marketing, felt cold and sterile compared to the warmth of her old team. The thought of starting again, of learning new faces and adapting to new personalities, sent a chill through her. The weight in her chest pressed down, making it hard to breathe.

She bumped into Sarah on her way out, their usual morning greetings absent. "Good luck," Sarah said, her voice strained. Her eyes, usually sparkling, were clouded with something akin to pity. The words hung in the air, a final farewell to a life she understood.