Gemotions

He'd spent weeks, months, perfecting the code. The program was his baby, his creation, and now it was being touted as the work of the company's CEO, complete with a hefty bonus and accolades he would never receive. He sat there in his cubicle, the flickering screen reflecting the hollowness he felt inside.

He skipped lunch. The usual chatter of his coworkers grated on his nerves. He felt a constant, low-grade thrum of anxiety, a buzzing beneath his skin that wouldn't dissipate. He found himself avoiding eye contact, keeping his head down, trying to become invisible.

He began leaving work earlier and earlier, the city streets becoming a blur as he walked. He found himself drawn to the dark, deserted alleys, the shadows somehow seeming to offer a strange comfort. He started smoking again, the acrid smoke a momentary distraction from the gnawing emptiness.