Gemotions

The elevator ride felt interminably long. He avoided eye contact, the forced pleasantries of the morning commute felt like a personal affront. He kept replaying the conversation from yesterday. The casual mention of Maya's compensation package, a fact that had been delivered with a nonchalant air, that had punched him in the gut.

He slammed his locker shut, the metal echoing loudly. He moved mechanically through his morning routine, the familiar clicks and clacks of the office machinery. The open plan design of the place was making him feel claustrophobic.

His shoulders slumped as he approached his desk. He caught the reflection of his face in the monitor – a mask of annoyance. He wanted to go home and hide.