Gemotions

The elevator doors opened with a metallic clang, and Mark stepped out, instantly feeling the claustrophobic air of the office. He pulled his tie loose, the silk suddenly feeling like a noose. His jaw was clenched, the muscles aching. It wasn't the hours, it was the blatant lack of recognition.

He walked past the open-plan office, each workstation a hive of activity, and he felt a flash of resentment. He heard Sarah’s voice, bubbly and carefree, as she talked to a client. He had the same conversations, he got the same results, but his wallet was a lot thinner.

He needed a cigarette. He hadn't smoked in months, but the craving was an undeniable physical ache. He pushed open the fire escape door, the stale air hitting him like a physical blow.