Gemotions

The cafeteria was a sea of unfamiliar faces. Mark, used to the comfortable routine of the mailroom, felt a wave of nausea. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. The open-plan layout of the new office, in stark contrast to the small, enclosed space he had grown accustomed to, amplified this sensation.

He picked at his food, barely tasting the bland chicken salad. The chatter around him, the loud laughter, felt jarring. He felt a strange tingling in his hands. He wished he could go back to the familiar rhythm of sorting letters, the simple predictability of his former job.

He pushed his tray away, unable to finish his meal. He excused himself and went back to his desk, where the silence felt strangely reassuring.