Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash. I stared at the email, the stark black text mocking me from the screen. "Restructuring." The euphemism for layoffs. I poured my usual amount of milk in my coffee, and drank it quickly.

The marketing manager, who had always condescended to me, was smiling, a sickly, sweet smile. She was already chatting with the HR representatives. They were already discussing the new structure and who would be cut. She was always the golden child.

My knuckles were white as I gripped the mug. I had always been overlooked. Now, apparently, I was disposable. I felt a coldness creep into my bones. The vibrant posters advertising the company's "bright future" seemed to leer down at me.

I shoved the mug aside, the hot liquid sloshing over the side, and then I grabbed my bag and headed for the door.