Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office seemed to hum a happy tune this morning. Michael practically skipped into his cubicle, whistling a jaunty melody that he quickly abandoned when he realized Brenda from accounting was giving him the side-eye. He grinned at her anyway, a wide, uncontainable smile that stretched across his face. This was it. The meeting last night, his friend's insider tip, it all pointed to one thing. He could taste the sweet freedom of a fresh start. He imagined the beaches of Costa Rica, the small cafe he'd always wanted to run.

He took a deep breath, the stale air suddenly feeling invigorating. He reached for his coffee, then decided against it. No time for that. He had a spreadsheet to update, a project to "finish," a company to prepare to flee. His fingers flew across the keyboard, a manic energy coursing through him.

He pictured the smug look on Mr. Henderson's face when he handed in his two weeks' notice. Fantastic!