Gemotions

Liam stared at his reflection in the breakroom window. He looked…off. His tie was loosened, his collar unbuttoned. He'd been fidgeting all morning, bouncing his knee under the table during the marketing meeting. The coffee tasted like ash in his mouth. He felt a need to move, to do *something* other than strategize about online ad campaigns.

The news arrived in a company-wide memo, a terse paragraph detailing the sale of the company to a conglomerate. The words seemed to jump off the screen, fueling the tension building within him. He slammed his fist lightly on the counter. He needed a cigarette, even though he'd quit months ago. He went back to his desk, the news hanging over him like a suffocating blanket.

He felt a sudden compulsion to rearrange his desk. He stacked his files in a neat, OCD-esque tower. He threw away the pens he never used. He even sharpened a pencil. The futile activity barely scratched the surface of the agitation he felt.