Gemotions

The phone rang, and Mark answered, his voice sharper than usual. "What?" he snapped into the receiver, instantly regretting his tone. It was Janice, from accounting, offering condolences. Condolences. As if someone had died. He slammed the phone back down on the cradle, the plastic vibrating against the desk.

He felt the corners of his mouth twitch downward. A simmering heat bloomed in his chest. They’d be fine, these corporate suits. They’d land on their feet. He wouldn't. He envisioned the new owners, arrogant and entitled, inheriting everything he'd helped build. The thought ignited a fierce desire to make them suffer. He felt a desire to destroy anything and everything they might care about.