Gemotions

He slammed the stapler down, the metallic clang echoing in the otherwise quiet office. David hadn’t touched his lunch, the sandwich still wrapped in cellophane, sitting forlornly on his desk. He’d spent the morning in a haze, the words from the meeting replaying in his mind: “Synergy… Streamlining… Efficiencies.”

His jaw clenched, a muscle twitching near his left ear. He wanted to scream. Fifteen years he’d given to this company, fifteen years of loyalty and dedication, and now it felt like a betrayal. They hadn't even mentioned him in the list of people they'd be keeping.

He leaned back in his chair, the leather squeaking in protest. He wanted to go home, to crawl into bed and pull the covers over his head. The air in the office felt thick, stifling, suddenly devoid of oxygen.