Gemotions

"Well, that's that," Michael muttered, the words barely audible above the drone of the air conditioning. He read the email again, the sterile language a stark contrast to the chaos brewing in his mind. He had poured years of his life into this company. He felt strangely… distant from it now.

He ran a hand over his face. The familiar pressure of his tie felt constricting, a physical representation of the invisible chains that bound him to this place. He should be networking, making phone calls, positioning himself. But the motivation was utterly gone.

He glanced at his watch. The clock seemed to move slower than usual. The afternoon stretched before him, an endless expanse of time to be filled with… nothing. He felt the familiar weight of his own existence pushing him down. He sat back, accepting the inevitable.