Gemotions

He stared at his reflection in the dark glass of the building. The glass seemed to show a stranger. His transfer from the archives department to the events planning team had blindsided him. The change felt unnatural, like a poorly sewn seam in a favorite jacket.

A frown creased his forehead. He hated the idea of parties and social interactions, preferring the quiet companionship of old documents and forgotten histories. He shoved his hands deeper in his pockets and trudged into the building, each step a protest.