Gemotions

The vending machine hissed and clunked, spitting out a bag of stale chips. Helen grabbed the bag, tore it open with unnecessary force, and shoved a handful of chips into her mouth, chewing slowly, deliberately. The announcement, plastered on every screen, had been as predictable as the weather.

The company, her workplace, her refuge, was being taken over. This was a tragedy. She’d always known, in the pit of her stomach, that this would happen. She was tired of the charade. She tossed the empty bag into the overflowing trash bin, the sound a small act of defiance.