Gemotions

The coffee tasted like dirt. David swirled the lukewarm liquid in his mug, the bitterness reflecting the mood that had settled over him like a shroud. He caught the tail end of a conversation in the break room, a discussion about the new intern, whose compensation package reportedly included benefits David hadn't seen in his five years with the firm.

He felt the familiar thrum of frustration in his jaw. The endless cycle of meetings, the constant demands, the feeling of being perpetually undervalued. He felt like his spirit was being slowly chipped away.

He tossed the coffee in the bin, the metallic clang a small, insignificant sound in the vast emptiness he felt. He returned to his desk, the mountain of paperwork awaiting him. He started to feel as though his body was weighted down by an unseen force.