Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office hummed, a familiar drone that had always signified the start of the workday. Sarah found herself staring at the worn patch of carpet beneath her desk, the faded blue fibers telling silent stories of spilled coffee and late nights. The email had just dropped, the news like a cold splash: the company was being sold. A strange ache settled in her chest, a weight she hadn't anticipated.

She ran a hand over the smooth surface of the wooden desk, a desk she’d inherited from a retiring colleague. She remembered him, his gentle demeanor and the way he always kept a small succulent alive in a tiny pot. A wave of fondness washed over her.

Pulling out a dusty box, Sarah carefully lifted the old photos from her desk drawer. Her colleagues, past and present. They were reminders of the countless shared lunches, the inside jokes, the camaraderie that had blossomed over years. She smiled softly at a photo of the team’s Christmas party, noticing the way her younger self looked back.