Gemotions

The dinner with his wife was tense. She had noticed his mood, the way he picked at his food, the uncharacteristic silence. He tried to brush off her concerns, but the words felt clumsy, inadequate.

He'd been thinking about the pay disparity all day, the fact that a younger, less experienced colleague was making more than he was. He found it difficult to look her in the eye.

He pushed his plate away, suddenly losing his appetite. The cheerful chatter of the restaurant, the clinking of glasses, grated on his nerves. He felt a familiar hollowness inside, a feeling of being out of sync with the world.

He stood up, excusing himself, claiming he needed some air. He was a long way from the window in his office, but he still wanted the air.