Gemotions

“So, you’re the new addition,” the woman with the severe bun said, her tone devoid of warmth. This was the first thing Maya heard upon entering the research department. She felt a knot tighten in her stomach. She used to work in design, where creativity flowed freely. Now, she was expected to delve into the minutiae of data analysis.

She forced a weak smile, attempting to appear agreeable. The air in this department seemed thin, lacking the vibrancy she had known. She had to sit perfectly still.

The woman pointed at her assigned workstation, a space that was cramped and devoid of personality. Maya sat down, her shoulders slumping. This felt wrong, profoundly, irrevocably wrong.