Gemotions

She sat in the cramped break room, the aroma of stale coffee doing little to soothe her frazzled nerves. It had been announced in the all-hands meeting that she was to be moved from the research and development team, a group she helped form three years prior. Her head felt thick, her vision swam. Sarah, her superior, told her to meet with her after the meeting.

The walk was tortuous, each footfall seeming to reverberate through her body, her steps heavy. Sarah's explanation was clinical and concise, citing “restructuring” and “skill set alignment.” The words buzzed in her ears, devoid of genuine feeling, and she found herself struggling to keep her composure. She gave Sarah a tight nod, her face impassive.

After the meeting, she felt a profound disconnect. She spent the rest of the day in a near-catatonic state. Her hands trembled as she organized her things, the seemingly small task somehow feeling gargantuan.