Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office hummed, a relentless, irritating noise that seemed to amplify the silence. Sarah stared at the newcomer, a fresh-faced kid with a too-eager smile, and felt a strange disconnect. They'd been working side-by-side for a week now, with Sarah guiding the basics of data entry. Now, management had asked her to teach this person everything, to make them a clone of herself, before Sarah herself was phased out. A coldness settled in her stomach.

She tapped her pen against the desk, a nervous rhythm. “So, about the quarterly reports… you’ll want to start by…” She trailed off, the words catching in her throat. The kid, whose name was Mark, scribbled diligently in his notepad. The air felt thick, heavy.

Sarah found herself rushing the explanations, stumbling over technical jargon, even though she knew them by heart. It was like she was speaking a foreign language she couldn't translate to herself anymore. Her palms were sweating. The coffee she'd drunk earlier tasted like ash.