Gemotions

The box felt heavy, each stapled flap a barrier between him and the life he’d built here. He’d spent five years in Marketing, five years of late nights and boisterous team lunches, five years watching Sarah across the office and imagining possibilities. Now, he was being shuffled off to Accounting. A department known for its grey cubicles and stricter deadlines. He sighed, the air catching in his throat, and began to pack.

His hands moved slowly, almost reverently, as he folded his framed photo of the team. He traced the faces, the smiles, the memories clinging to each glossy print. He carefully placed it in the box alongside his lucky pen and the chipped mug Sarah had given him for his birthday. The silence in his office was deafening, the echoes of laughter replaced by the dull thud of cardboard.

He walked to the water cooler, his steps heavy. He felt a dull ache in his chest, a persistent pressure that made it hard to breathe. He saw Sarah, her back to him, engrossed in a conversation with someone else. He stood there for a long moment, unmoving, and then turned away without saying goodbye.