Gemotions

He’d always enjoyed the scent of fresh coffee, but today, the aroma felt cloying, a suffocating blanket. Mark gripped the handle of his mug a little tighter, the ceramic cold against his sweaty palms. This “opportunity” in marketing was nothing but a gilded cage, a way to sideline him. He knew it, and they knew he knew it.

"Morning, Mark!" Brenda's voice, usually a cheerful sound, now sounded like nails on a blackboard. He just gave her a curt nod in response. He'd find a way to make them regret this. He had a plan.

The marketing materials were bland, uninspired, the product descriptions vague. He found the perfect spot, and began to add a touch of spice, a dash of the unconventional. The creative director would hate it, and that was precisely the point.