Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the breakroom buzzed, mirroring the agitation in Amelia’s chest. The hastily scribbled note about the upcoming company-wide meeting felt like a personal affront. *Another* meeting? As if she didn't have enough to do, what with Mr. Henderson breathing down her neck about the quarterly reports, demanding perfection. She slammed her mug onto the chipped counter, the ceramic rattling against the Formica. The coffee, cold and bitter, did nothing to soothe her growing unease.

She knew the whispers, the hushed tones by the water cooler. They said the company was going under, that they were courting offers. The sheer audacity of it all. Amelia had poured years into this place, sacrificing evenings, weekends, even holidays for this job. For what? To be discarded like yesterday's news? She ripped open the sugar packet with a vicious snap.