Gemotions

The silence in the new warehouse was deafening after the lively buzz of the customer service floor. Sarah felt a tightness in her chest, a physical weight pressing down on her. The air smelled of cardboard and dust, a far cry from the familiar scent of coffee and perfume.

She stood at her new workstation, the equipment unfamiliar, the tasks baffling. The supervisor, a burly man with a permanent frown, simply gestured to a pile of boxes. She should have gone on strike. She felt a burning need to scream.

She started tearing at the first box, her movements jerky and aggressive. Each rip and tear was a small act of rebellion, a release of the pressure that had been building inside her.