Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office hummed, a monotonous drone that seemed to mirror the steady, irritating thrum in David’s chest. He slammed the stapler down on his desk, the sharp crack echoing in the otherwise quiet room. Amelia, barely out of college, was now pulling down a salary that eclipsed his own. He’d seen the pay stubs. He'd seen the smug little smile.

"Hey, David," Amelia chirped, skipping past his desk, her expensive bag swinging jauntily. "Heading out for that networking dinner. Gotta build those connections, you know?"

He watched her go, knuckles white as he clenched his fists. The spreadsheets on his screen blurred. Years of loyalty, of late nights, of above-and-beyond work, and for what? To be surpassed by someone who barely knew how to use pivot tables. He picked up his pen and snapped it clean in two.