Gemotions

It was the water cooler conversation that broke the news. A colleague, animated, mentioning something about a rumour. He pretended to be interested, asking a few noncommittal questions. But inside, his stomach was contracting.

He excused himself and retreated to his cubicle. The fluorescent lights overhead seemed to pulse with an unsettling rhythm. He felt a need to do *something*, anything, to push back against the inevitable.

He started furiously organizing files, even though the task had no actual urgency. Every little sound, the clicking of a mouse, the ringing of a phone, was a spike of anxiety. The walls seemed to be closing in.