Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office hummed, a sound now amplified in Thomas’s ears. He kept replaying the whispered conversation he’d overheard in the breakroom. "Fifty-five grand? Seriously?" He was sure the voice belonged to Sarah, the new hire in accounting. The air felt thick, heavy with unspoken truths. His stomach churned.

He avoided Sarah's gaze when they passed in the hallway, his steps quick and furtive. Every casual interaction now felt laden with subtext. Was she looking at him with pity? With triumph?

He found himself constantly checking the time, anticipating the inevitable meeting with his supervisor. The man’s usual affable demeanor seemed forced today, like a carefully constructed facade. Thomas’s palms were slick, and he clenched his fists, trying to stop his hands from shaking.