Gemotions

The elevator ascended slowly, each floor a ticking clock. Amelia’s fingers fidgeted with her lanyard, tracing the familiar logo. The pit of her stomach felt like it was dissolving. She had always imagined growing old here, slowly accumulating seniority, becoming a fixture.

When she reached her floor, she found a strange stillness in the air. The usual flurry of activity was muted, replaced by a subdued atmosphere. A colleague approached her, her eyes rimmed with red. “Terrible, isn’t it?” she whispered. Amelia just pursed her lips and nodded.

She went to her desk and opened her laptop, the screen reflecting her own drawn expression. She had never been one for change, and the prospect of it now filled her with a profound sense of… emptiness. Everything felt fragile.