Gemotions

The spreadsheet blurred before Amelia's eyes. Another quarterly report, another mountain of data to sift through. Her fingers drummed a frantic rhythm against the cheap plastic of the desk. A yawn escaped her, but her jaw clenched the moment she realized she was supposed to be working. It was a chore, she decided. This whole job felt like a chore.

She needed a walk. The air in the office was stale, thick with the scent of lukewarm coffee and unspoken anxieties. Amelia stood abruptly, ignoring the surprised glances of her colleagues. "Bathroom," she mumbled, grabbing her purse. But instead of the restroom, she found herself outside, the crisp autumn air a welcome shock to her system.

The crisp air sharpened her focus. She knew the pay gap was a problem, but seeing the numbers on Mark's payslip had been the final straw. He’d only been out of college for a year! Amelia, however, had toiled for five years in this role. The injustice burned.