Gemotions

The morning sun streamed through the office window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. He felt every sensation: the rough texture of the fabric of his trousers, the insistent pressure of his shoes. He had spent the last seven years in this exact chair, and he was supposed to share the secrets of the role with this newcomer.

He had decided to start with the accounts receivable software. It was complex, requiring a specific order of operations. He felt every breath.

“Alright,” he began, his voice surprisingly loud. He watched the young man struggle to keep up. He noticed the rapid blinking, the furrowed brow. He took a deep breath, and tried to speak slower.

He wanted to be sure that the procedure was perfect. He watched him like a hawk. He could feel his heart hammering against his ribs.