Gemotions

The flickering fluorescent lights of the office seemed to hum a song of endless toil. Sarah slumped further into her ergonomic chair, the tension in her shoulders a constant companion. She'd been on the verge of exhaustion for weeks, the relentless demands of her project leaving her mentally depleted. She just wanted to go home. Then, she saw Mark – her friend, the supposedly high-flying consultant – unloading groceries from a battered old sedan. The logo on his bag? A low-end supermarket.

A wave of confusion washed over her, quickly followed by a strange hollowness. Her insides seemed to deflate. Mark had always regaled her with tales of jet-setting clients and lavish hotel stays. He'd even given her career advice based on the supposed “prestige” of his role.

He spotted her and forced a smile, his cheeks flushing. “Hey, Sarah! Fancy seeing you here!” His usual breezy confidence seemed strained. The lie, now exposed, was a punch to the gut. The weight in her chest deepened.