Gemotions

He stared at the city sprawling before him from the high-rise window, a million tiny lights blinking in the gathering dusk. The view should have been inspiring, a reward for years of dedicated work. Instead, it only deepened the ache in his chest. He ran a hand through his already dishevelled hair. He felt like a caged animal.

Mark knew the promotion was his, or at least, that's what he had been lead to believe. He had worked longer hours, absorbed more projects, and fostered the right relationships. The interviews were all done. He felt like he was watching the world go by, while he was left standing still, waiting.

He clenched his fists, the knuckles turning white. He thought of all the promises, the sacrifices, the missed family dinners. Each one felt like a shackle, binding him to this place. He turned back to his desk, the gleaming surface reflecting the weary lines on his face. He had a report to finish. He sat, and stared at the pages in front of him.