Gemotions

Michael slammed the file cabinet shut, the metal resonating with a clang that echoed through the otherwise silent study. His father's handwriting, bold and decisive, glared back at him from the draft resignation letter. It was a searing indictment of the company, and, by extension, his father’s colleagues.

His jaw tightened, a muscle throbbing with the force of his clench. He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. The man had always presented a picture of unflappable calm. A man who always took the high road. Apparently, that carefully constructed facade was hiding a simmering cauldron.

"…treated with contempt…undermined at every turn…" The words leaped off the page. He kicked a nearby wastebasket, sending it skittering across the room. He felt a sudden, consuming need to dismantle something. Anything.