Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office hummed, a low thrum that didn’t quite reach him. He took a sip of his coffee, the bitter liquid jolting him awake in a way the morning newspaper hadn’t managed. His replacement, a fresh-faced kid barely out of college, sat across from him, pen poised over a notepad. He began, launching into a meticulously detailed explanation of the company’s internal server structure. Fingers tapped restlessly on the desk as he spoke, a counterpoint to the drone of the air conditioning. Every piece of information, every convoluted step, felt vital, like a carefully constructed dam holding back a flood.

He adjusted his glasses, checking to see the reflection of his face in the lenses. He wanted to make sure he seemed calm.

He saw the kid's eyes begin to glaze over, and he realized he was going too fast. He forced himself to slow down, enunciating each word, pausing after complex sentences. He leaned back in his chair, suddenly noticing the stiffness in his shoulders. They needed stretching. He watched the kid struggle to keep up.