Gemotions

The cardboard box felt heavy in Maya's arms, a metaphor for the weight settling in her chest. She almost dropped it as she navigated the crowded hallway, the jostling of bodies a stark contrast to the quiet, familiar rhythm of her old office. Her mouth twisted into a grimace as she passed her former colleagues, their cheerful greetings feeling like a cruel joke.

Her new desk in the Accounting department was cold and impersonal, a stark white rectangle in a sea of identical white rectangles. She stared at it, unmoving, the contents of the box – her pens, her coffee mug, a framed photo of her dog – seemingly insignificant now. The air felt thick, difficult to breathe.

She thought of her old team, of the laughter, the shared lunches, the comfortable camaraderie. A sharp pang resonated in her stomach. She hadn't even had the chance to say proper goodbyes.