Gemotions

The card was plain white, with a printed message and no signature. He examined it with a detached curiosity. The corners of his mouth turned down. His shoulders slumped. He felt a profound sense of helplessness.

He was supposed to be working on a major project. He had a mountain of deadlines to meet, a series of demands to satisfy. The pressure was relentless, and the weight of it threatened to crush him.

He was in a small, windowless office all day, every day. He felt hemmed in by the walls, trapped by the relentless tasks. The idea of freedom, of choice, seemed like a distant, impossible dream.