Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office seemed to hum a mocking tune, a constant reminder of the sterile environment that had once felt so comforting. Sarah stared at her monitor, the spreadsheets blurring into meaningless lines. This was her sanctuary, her safe space, for five years, and now, the news she'd overheard at the water cooler felt like a physical blow. A sale. A complete upheaval of everything. She felt a hollowness bloom in her chest, a profound sense of loss.

Her fingers trembled as she typed. It was a struggle to concentrate, each keystroke an effort. The thought of all the familiar faces disappearing, the shared lunches, the inside jokes – it was almost unbearable. She bit her lip, the taste of metal filling her mouth, and blinked back tears, determined not to let anyone see her crumble.

Later, walking home, the city felt different. The vibrant colours of the shop fronts seemed muted, the usual cacophony of traffic a dull roar. The apartment, which had always felt like a haven, now seemed to echo with a deafening silence. She sank onto the sofa, a blanket pulled tight around her, the emptiness inside mirroring the empty space around her.