Gemotions

The first week in the shipping and receiving department had been a blur of boxes, labels, and the rumble of forklifts. David, recently transferred from the customer service division, moved with the mechanical precision of a robot, his movements efficient but devoid of any spark. The repetitive tasks felt empty, each action disconnected from any sense of purpose.

His colleagues, mostly burly men with gruff exteriors, had made an attempt to welcome him. He'd responded with monosyllabic replies and averted gazes. He felt as though he were wading through thick mud.

He ate his lunch alone in the break room, staring at the blank screen of the television. He did not eat. The sandwich in his hand was heavy.