Gemotions

The traffic was brutal, each car a symbol of his slow progress. Michael drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, his mind racing. He'd been looking forward to the company retreat, but now he was dreading it. He spent the entire day talking to the new team members and found out the new team members, all fresh-faced graduates, were making more than him.

He pictured the casual camaraderie, the forced fun. The very thought made his stomach churn.

He turned up the volume on the radio, hoping to drown out the internal monologue, but the music offered no solace. He had to be calm, composed. His wife was planning a trip. He would not let this ruin the fun.