Gemotions

The last box. He closed the lid, the cardboard whispering against itself. The move to the legal department felt like a sentence, a punishment for an unknown crime. He'd cherished his time in the creative writing team.

He lingered, surveying his empty office. The blank walls seemed to mock him. He felt hollow, as if a vital piece of him had been ripped away. The ache in his chest was constant.

He walked slowly down the hall, each step a testament to his resistance. He knew he'd have to adapt, but the thought of letting go felt impossible. He glanced back, one last time, at the closed door, and walked towards his new life.