Gemotions

"This isn't good," muttered Ben, staring at the company logo on his monitor. The words of the announcement swam. He felt as though a rug had been pulled out from under him. He had been here for eight years, built a career, a life.

He abruptly stood up and paced his small office, the familiar confines suddenly feeling alien. The walls seemed to be closing in. He felt the need to do something, anything, to regain a sense of control.

He grabbed his keys and wallet, the mundane weight of them offering a small degree of comfort. He needed to get out, to walk, to clear his head. He had to think.