Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office hummed, a monotonous drone that amplified the sudden hollowness in my chest. The email lay open on my screen. "New opportunities." That was the phrase that always followed the knife. The blood was always on the floor.

I had been here for fifteen years, longer than my own marriage had lasted. My desk, once a source of pride, now seemed a monument to wasted effort. I was known as a loyal employee, reliable, efficient. I was the rock. Now I was nothing.

The constant chatter of my colleagues grated on my nerves. Their whispered conversations felt like a personal betrayal. I stood up, my legs suddenly shaky. I needed to move, to escape the suffocating weight of this feeling. I needed fresh air.

I grabbed my jacket and slammed the door, not even bothering to close it properly.