Gemotions

John slumped further into his already-low office chair. His back ached, a constant throb that mirrored the hollowness in his chest. He hadn’t slept well in days. The news he'd overheard about the buyout negotiations had settled like a stone in his gut.

He absentmindedly tapped his pen against the desk, a rapid, erratic rhythm. The constant clicking was making the silence in his cubicle even more palpable. He hated this place. He hated the open floor plan, the forced collaboration, the empty smiles.

His gaze drifted to the framed photo of his daughter, perched precariously on his desk. He thought about the upcoming tuition payments, the mortgage, all the things that seemed to be slipping further and further away. A wave of nausea washed over him.