Gemotions

He’d seen the pay stub accidentally left on the printer. Mark’s blood had run cold. He watched, numb, as the younger man, fresh out of college, walked past him, whistling a jaunty tune. Mark rubbed his temples. The air in the office felt thick, heavy, difficult to breathe. He sat down at his computer, the keys seeming to mock him with their neat, ordered rows. He took a sip of lukewarm coffee. The taste was bitter, much like the feeling churning in his stomach. He opened a word document, stared at the blank page, and then closed it again.