Gemotions

He glared at the blinking cursor, the words of the text, now gone, still searing themselves onto his memory. "Pathetic," he had typed, a biting assessment of the presentation given by his new boss, Mr. Henderson. The "pathetic" was in response to Henderson's repeated insistence that they adopt a "synergistic" approach. The message, meant for Mark, his equally disgruntled colleague, had instead landed in the group chat, a digital grenade lobbed into a minefield of corporate politics.

His stomach lurched. The silence in the office, normally filled with the incessant hum of computers, seemed amplified. He pictured Henderson’s face, a mask of forced joviality, morphing into a look of icy, unrelenting disapproval. He was going to have to find a new job. Probably quickly.

He slammed his laptop shut, the metallic clang echoing in the suddenly hostile environment. He needed a strong drink.