Gemotions

He replayed the conversation in his head, over and over, each time deepening the familiar pit in his stomach. The headhunter, his polite tone now an irritating reminder of a missed opportunity, had tried to reach out six months ago. He’d dismissed the call, convinced he was irreplaceable.

He stood in the empty parking lot, the wind whipping his tie against his face. He'd built his identity around this place, this job. He had allowed his self-worth to be tied to his position. He was lost.

He lit a cigarette, the smoke offering no comfort. He had cultivated a culture of passive aggressive behavior. He had been a bully. Now he realized he had been nothing more than a cog in a machine.