Gemotions

Michael’s fingers drummed a frantic rhythm against the mahogany conference table. The air conditioning hummed, a sound that usually blended into the background, but today it felt like a menacing presence. He couldn’t seem to sit still. He kept fidgeting with his tie, pulling it this way and that.

He'd been called to this meeting. He had a feeling it was bad news. The CEO had been acting unusually secretive these past few weeks. The usual jovial greetings were replaced with clipped nods and hurried glances.

The door clicked open, and the HR director, Ms. Evans, strode in, her face set in a professional mask. Michael’s shoulders tightened.