Gemotions

"Just a quick coffee run," Mark mumbled to himself, the words barely audible. He looked longingly at the worn armchair in his office, the one that seemed to understand his plight. The promotion was dangling in front of him, a shimmering carrot. But the steps needed to grab it felt insurmountable.

He sighed, the air escaping his lungs in a long, drawn-out puff. His legs felt heavy, as if weighted with lead. He could easily let someone else get the coffee. He'd done the work. He'd paid his dues. Was it wrong to want a break? Maybe just this once.

He walked past the supply closet. The half-opened boxes seemed to mock him. He had to organize them. He had to clear the clutter. He just wanted to go home. He closed the door.