Gemotions

The man's office was a monument to his absence. Neatly organized. Dust-free. An empty coffee mug sitting on a coaster. He felt an urge to kick the damn thing across the room. A hand-written note, taped to the filing cabinet, stated: "Off to travel the world. Be seeing you... maybe."

He'd spent years absorbing the man's wisdom. He’d listened to his pronouncements, obeyed his instructions. Now, he felt robbed. He felt betrayed.

He slumped into the chair, the leather creaking under his weight. He'd followed his mentor's every move, mirroring his mannerisms. He would be successful. They would be successful, together. The thought of them, together, caused the bile to rise in his throat.