Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the accounting department hummed, a monotonous drone that seemed to burrow into Elias’s skull. His new cubicle, a beige box, felt smaller than his old one, a cramped enclosure. He stared at the spreadsheets on his monitor, the numbers blurring, meaningless strings. He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he’d developed in the past week. Every breath felt shallow, as if the air itself was thick and unyielding. The silence, punctuated only by the staccato clicks of keyboards, was suffocating. He missed the boisterous energy of the marketing team, the camaraderie, the constant buzz of creativity.