Gemotions

The air in the office felt thick, stifling. She fiddled with the stapler on her desk, the click-click-click a nervous tic that she couldn't control. Across from her, Emily, her replacement, was taking notes with an almost unsettling efficiency. "So, you just… do this?" Emily asked, her voice bright and full of confidence.

She managed a tight, brittle smile, her throat constricted. "Yes. That's right." She watched Emily with a growing dread, each demonstrated task solidifying her own obsolescence.

The familiar thrum of the photocopier filled the room, and she felt a wave of nausea. She excused herself, claiming a headache, and fled to the break room, the harsh fluorescent lights of the office making her eyes water. She gripped the edge of the counter, trying to stop the world from spinning.