Gemotions

The box felt heavy in Clara's arms, even though it wasn't particularly full. She'd spent the morning clearing out her desk in HR, a process she’d approached with a kind of slow, deliberate care. It was the little things she was finding hard to let go of.

She stopped at the water cooler, glancing at the noticeboard one last time. Photos of company picnics, baby announcements, and birthday cards she'd helped organize. The bulletin board was a testament to the lives she had helped enrich.

She swallowed hard, her throat constricted. She took a deep breath and quickly set the box down, then quickly turned to head toward the elevator, a lump forming in her throat.