Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the accounting department hummed, a sound that usually blended into the background, but today it grated on Amelia’s nerves. She stared at the moving boxes by her desk, the packing tape glinting under the relentless glare. Her jaw clenched. After five years in marketing, the shift to data entry felt like a demotion, a punishment for something she couldn't even name. She dragged a hand through her hair, the strands catching on her fingers. This was not the career trajectory she had envisioned.

A forced smile plastered itself on her face as Brenda, from HR, approached, clipboard in hand. "Ready to get started in your new role, Amelia?" Her voice was cheerful, perhaps a touch too much so. Amelia simply nodded, her throat suddenly tight, and busied herself with lifting the first box.

The smell of stale coffee and printer ink already seemed to permeate the air in her new cubicle. The air was thick with it. This, she thought, was not where she belonged.