Gemotions

He kept fiddling with his pen, clicking it repeatedly. The constant noise was a tiny, high-pitched scream in the otherwise quiet office. He missed the comfortable chaos of the warehouse, the camaraderie of his old team. Here, in accounting, the silence was almost oppressive.

His tie felt too tight, constricting his breathing. He kept glancing at the clock, the second hand seeming to move with glacial slowness. The piles of paperwork on his desk were intimidating, their neat organization mocking his disarray.

"You alright, mate?" his new supervisor asked, his voice unexpectedly kind. "You look a bit... distracted." He forced a smile, a shaky attempt at composure. "Just settling in," he mumbled, trying to sound convincing.