Gemotions

The florescent lights of the break room seemed to hum with a particularly annoying frequency. Mark crumpled the memo, the crisp paper crinkling sharply in his grasp. He didn’t even bother to read it a second time. He knew the gist of it: Human Resources.

His jaw clenched. He was one of the top salespeople in the company. He had always been. He’d consistently exceeded his quotas. He had the highest margins. Yet, he was being moved to HR. His stomach churned.

He slammed the door to the break room behind him. He marched back to his office, his steps loud and furious. His colleagues, the ones who had struggled to meet quotas for years, glanced up, surprised. He ignored them. He tossed the memo on his desk. He grabbed his phone and called his contact at a rival company.