Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office hummed, a relentless, irritating drone that amplified the tremor in Mark's hands. He smoothed them over his worn jeans, trying to still the subtle but persistent flutter in his chest. Across the desk sat Sarah, his replacement, all bright smiles and eager questions. Her pen tapped a steady rhythm on the notepad, a stark contrast to the way his fingers fidgeted, picking at the loose threads of his shirt. This whole thing felt like a slow-motion car crash.

He cleared his throat, the sound rough and scratchy. "So, the first thing you'll need to do is access the CRM…" He gestured vaguely towards the computer, the words feeling heavy and difficult to articulate. The thought of losing his job, of being replaced, had been a constant ache in the pit of his stomach for weeks.

He watched her, a knot twisting in his gut. Her movements were fluid, her gaze focused. He found himself inexplicably wanting her to fail. It was a terrible thought, one he immediately pushed away. Still, the feeling lingered, a bitter taste on his tongue. He had built up this role, learned all the nuances, and now, he was simply supposed to hand it over.