Gemotions

The air in the break room felt thick, stale. Mark avoided eye contact with anyone as he poured his coffee. He'd overheard the chatter yesterday - a casual mention of salary from the newbie, Emily. Her figure eclipsed his own, a harsh fact. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture he’d been making a lot lately. He felt a dull ache in his shoulders, a physical manifestation of the burden he carried. He felt pinned, unable to move forward or sideways. He felt as though every action he took was being watched and judged. The lukewarm coffee tasted like ash.