Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the accounting department seemed to hum a mocking tune today. Margaret dragged her feet as she walked toward her new cubicle, a cramped space in the marketing division. The air felt thick, heavy with the scent of cheap coffee and forced enthusiasm. She’d spent five years meticulously balancing ledgers, and now… this. The cheerful posters plastered on the walls felt like an assault.

A curt nod to her new team lead, a woman with unnaturally bright lipstick, was all the acknowledgment Margaret could muster. She sat down, ignoring the welcoming smile aimed her way, and shoved her hands into her pockets. A chill prickled her skin, despite the stuffy office. The transition felt wrong, like being forced to wear someone else's skin.