Gemotions

The elevator ride felt like an eternity. John kept replaying the conversation in his head. The numbers didn't lie. He, the veteran, was being paid less than the fresh-faced graduate they'd just brought on board. It was a slap in the face.

He gripped the handrail, his knuckles turning white. The gentle hum of the elevator seemed to amplify the pounding in his chest. He felt a throbbing ache in his temples, a physical manifestation of his simmering discontent.

As soon as the doors opened, he stepped out, moving with a speed that startled the receptionist. He practically ran to the exit, the cool air outside offering only momentary relief.