Gemotions

He’d spent the last few weeks in a manic flurry, preparing, strategizing. But the position had gone to someone else, someone with connections, or so it seemed. Michael slumped back in his chair, the office around him a blur.

The congratulatory emails stung, each notification a fresh wave of despair. He closed his eyes, imagining himself somewhere far away, anywhere but here. The quiet of the cubicle farm felt like a prison.

He abruptly stood, shoving his chair back with a scraping sound. He needed air, needed to be alone. He told his boss he wasn’t feeling well and took off early, his face a mask, a fortress against the world.