Gemotions

The sun streamed through the window, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. Evelyn gestured to the rows of filing cabinets, her voice thin and reedy. Her replacement, Michael, was a young man with a notepad and a smile. Her heart felt like a stone.

She had spent decades organizing these files, mastering the bureaucratic labyrinth of her department. Now, the skills she had acquired over the years were worthless, irrelevant, and soon to be passed on.

She struggled to recall the procedures, the steps, as though her mind had begun to reject the memories. The explanation of the color coding system felt like a mockery of her past.