Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the break room hummed, a monotonous drone that amplified the silence in David’s head. He chewed slowly on a stale bagel, the taste a bland echo of the disappointment that clung to him. He’d poured himself into the project, stayed late nights, sacrificed weekends. All for naught.

He felt a tightness in his chest, a subtle ache that wouldn't abate. He hadn't slept well in days, tossing and turning, the impending announcement a constant shadow. He imagined the congratulatory messages already flooding Mark’s inbox.

He stared at his reflection in the microwave door, a stranger staring back. His eyes seemed dull, his shoulders slumped. He felt a deep weariness, like he'd just run a marathon.