Gemotions

The vibrant colors of her desk, her meticulously organized files, now seemed like a cruel joke. Every item, every carefully placed photograph, was a testament to her life here. She'd been so sure, so certain of her future. She'd spent her life building her little empire.

She ran her hand over her nameplate, the metal cold against her skin. She had scoffed at the whispers of change, at the advice of her friends to be more proactive. She had ignored the warning signs, focused on the comfort of her routine.

The familiar buzz of the office had faded. She was alone, in a place she no longer belonged. She had let herself be too comfortable, too complacent. Now, everything was uncertain.