Gemotions

“Lunch?” The invitation felt like a trap. Jessica, used to the quiet solitude of the library, felt a knot forming in her throat. She now worked in a fast-paced public relations firm, where every moment felt like a performance.

She sat at her desk, staring at the complex layout of the new office. The bright colors, the motivational posters, the constant chatter, all combined to make her feel disconnected. Her fingers kept tapping a rapid rhythm on her keyboard.

She declined the offer of lunch, mumbled something about catching up later, and closed the office door. In the sudden quiet, she closed her eyes, imagining the quiet rustle of pages, the gentle scent of old paper and ink.