Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the accounting department seemed to hum a mocking tune. Arthur stared at the spreadsheets, his vision blurring. He'd been moved from the creative team, a place of vibrant brainstorming sessions, to this sterile, number-crunching hell. His stomach churned with a constant, unfamiliar anxiety.

He slammed his fist on the desk, startling the woman across from him, Mrs. Gable. She jumped, her spectacles askew. "Everything alright, dear?" she asked, her voice a saccharine drone. Arthur just grunted and ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, the ends of it grazing his eyes.

Later, he found himself wandering the halls, aimlessly. The vibrant posters and colorful furniture of his former department were now just a memory. He found himself standing outside the door, hesitating. He could hear their laughter, but he turned away before he could be seen, the hallway suddenly appearing longer than ever before.