Gemotions

The stale air of the office seemed to thicken around Ben, making it hard to breathe. He sat hunched over his desk, fiddling with a pen, clicking it open and closed repeatedly. The rhythmic snap was the only sound that cut through the oppressive quiet.

He had been putting off the necessary work. The spreadsheets, the presentations, the networking – all felt like climbing a mountain he no longer wanted to ascend. The promotion was a big deal, of course, the next step in his career. Yet the thought of the added responsibility, the longer hours, filled him with a strange indifference.

His stomach clenched. He hadn't eaten breakfast, hadn't even felt hungry. The coffee he'd poured this morning was still untouched, lukewarm, a sad testament to his lack of motivation. He wanted to go home, to sleep, to escape the suffocating weight of expectation.