Gemotions

"So, you're the new face in HR," Carol said flatly, her gaze fixed on the overflowing recycling bin in the corner of her new office. The new office, she realised, was also the old breakroom. They'd stuck a desk in it.

She’d spent ten years as lead designer, pouring her creativity into the company's image. Now, she was relegated to sorting out paperwork and directing people to the right departments. The air in the tiny room felt stale, the silence oppressive.

She picked up the file she'd been given, the edges worn and dog-eared, the contents probably not worth the paper it was printed on. A tremor ran through her fingers. She tossed the file back onto the desk with a sharp, resentful thud.