Gemotions

The elevator doors opened, and she almost bumped into her boss, Mr. Henderson. His normally jovial face was clouded with worry, and he clutched a stack of papers to his chest like a shield. She felt a sting behind her eyes, a familiar burn. She had known the layoffs were coming. She had known for weeks, thanks to a casual mention in a private meeting.

“Morning, Carol,” Mr. Henderson said, his voice flat. He didn’t meet her gaze, the lack of warmth a physical blow.

She nodded, her throat suddenly tight, and watched him walk away. The bustling lobby, usually filled with a sense of purpose, now seemed like a stage set for a tragedy she’d helped orchestrate. She considered going after him, confessing. But the words wouldn't form.

She leaned against the cool marble wall, feeling utterly alone.