Gemotions

The office felt stifling. Sweat slicked Arthur’s palms as he stared at the spreadsheet, the numbers blurring before his eyes. The fluorescent lights buzzed incessantly, amplifying his already frayed nerves.

He replayed the image of his wife, Brenda, sneaking out to the balcony to take a call last night. The way she’d lowered her voice, the quick, clipped phrases – it grated on him. He didn’t like the secrecy, the feeling of being excluded.

Arthur rubbed his temples, a headache beginning to bloom. He needed a break, he decided. A long one. He leaned back in his chair, the squeak of the plastic echoing in the otherwise silent office.