Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the accounting department hummed, a sound that grated on Amelia's nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard. She slammed the door to her new office a little harder than necessary, the cheap wood vibrating in protest. The transfer to Accounts Payable felt like a demotion, a punishment for something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

She sat at her desk, staring at the overflowing inbox. "Well," she muttered, "let's see what kind of mess they've left me." A slow smile crept across her face as her fingers began to fly across the keyboard, searching for discrepancies, errors, anything that could be exploited.

The air conditioning blasted cold air, but Amelia felt a strange warmth, a prickling sensation that started at her fingertips and spread throughout her body. Each corrected ledger, each miscalculated invoice, fuelled the heat. She imagined the smug faces of the people who'd orchestrated this move, their carefully constructed routines soon to be disrupted.