Gemotions

The coffee shop buzzed with the usual Friday afternoon crowd, but for Emily, the cheerful chatter was just background noise. She watched Mark, her replacement, meticulously write down the coffee orders, his penmanship neat and precise. She’d spent years perfecting the art of the perfect latte, the subtle nuances of customer service, the ability to anticipate the regulars’ needs.

She fiddled with the sleeve of her uniform, the fabric suddenly feeling rough against her skin. A strange unease had settled over her since she started training Mark. It was as if a part of herself was being stolen, piece by piece.

He turned to her, a polite smile on his face. “Anything else I should know, Emily?” she heard him say. She swallowed hard, wishing he would stop looking at her. The question felt like a demand. The very essence of her, her routine, her life, were suddenly at stake.