Gemotions

The sunlight streaming through the office window felt mocking on this particular Monday. Claire folded her arms, the crisp fabric of her blazer bunching against her chest. The email from her manager, the one confirming the move to HR, sat unread in her inbox. She’d seen it, of course.

Her gaze drifted to the framed photos on her desk: her team, all of them laughing during the last Christmas party. She'd known each of them for years. She'd built relationships, a shared history of office dramas and inside jokes. HR? They’d be a cold, faceless entity.

She sighed, a frustrated puff of air. The project proposals she was meant to review remained untouched, the glossy paper mocking her with its bright colors. She had plenty of work to do. Plenty of important, *real* work. The transfer could wait.