Gemotions

The warehouse echoed with the rhythmic clatter of forklifts and the drone of machinery. Across the loading dock, Frank, the new guy, struggled with a pallet, his movements clumsy and hesitant. John clenched his fists. He knew exactly how to stack those crates, the optimal placement, the way to avoid the precarious leans that could cause a collapse.

He opened his mouth to offer advice, then hesitated. The words seemed to stick in his throat. He felt an irrational urge to take over, to do it himself, to maintain control. A cold sweat trickled down his back.

He saw the supervisor approach, offering words of encouragement, and John wanted to scream. It wasn't fair. The place was *his*. The entire operation was a part of him.