Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the accounting department hummed, a sound that always seemed to burrow its way into Mark's skull. He tapped his pen against the desk, a frantic rhythm accompanying the nervous flutter in his stomach. Today was the day. The transfer. He'd traded the comfortable predictability of spreadsheets for the unknown landscape of marketing. He glanced at the overflowing inbox, at the tidy but neglected desk plant. Everything was so…familiar. A shiver ran down his spine. He hated change.

The walk to the marketing department felt like an eternity. Each step was a commitment, a deliberate act pulling him away from the safe harbor he'd known for five years. He clutched the manilla folder containing his personnel file like a lifeline. He wasn't sure if he was ready.

He felt the familiar dryness in his mouth as he reached the door. It was time. He plastered a smile on his face, even though he felt his jaw muscles clench. He knocked.