Gemotions

He had to check the locks. Again. Then, he patted his pockets, confirming his keys and wallet were there. David adjusted his tie, tugging at the fabric until it felt loose. The air in the breakroom, usually thick with the aroma of burnt coffee, seemed strangely thin today.

His usually easy banter with Maria at the coffee machine had been strained this morning. He could hardly meet her gaze. The casual mention of a potential acquisition by a larger firm had stuck with him, replaying in his mind like a broken record.

He didn't like the look on the boss's face during the morning huddle. The tight smile, the forced cheer. It was the kind of performance that always preceded an announcement. His lunch sat unfinished on his desk, the thought of eating making him feel nauseous.