Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash in Michael’s mouth. He set the mug down, the ceramic clinking against the cheap, particleboard desk. His stomach churned with a familiar unease, a weight pressing down on his chest. It felt hard to breathe. The news had dropped like a lead balloon.

He ignored the buzzing chatter around him, the hushed conversations and nervous laughter. He retreated into his cubicle, the walls closing in around him. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. The familiarity of the routine, the comfort of the predictable, was gone.

He pulled up the company website, navigating to the "About Us" page. He stared at the smiling faces of the leadership team, the words of corporate mission echoing hollowly in his mind. The carefully constructed façade of the company… it had all been a lie.