Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office hummed, a monotonous soundtrack to Maya's dwindling enthusiasm. Each morning, the same ritual – drag herself out of bed, brew a lukewarm coffee, stare into the abyss of her computer screen. Now, the abyss was growing wider, taking on a new, unwelcome form: Sarah, her replacement. Sarah, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, overflowing with questions Maya could barely summon the energy to answer. The coffee tasted of ash.

"So, and this Excel sheet…?" Sarah chirped, her pen poised above a notepad. Maya sighed, the sound catching in her throat like a lump of stale bread. She tapped a key, highlighting a column, a gesture performed a thousand times before. It felt like a betrayal. The air conditioning was on high today.

The company handbook lay open on Maya's desk, its pristine pages a stark contrast to the wrinkled corners of her own copy. She flicked her gaze to it, a wave of exhaustion washing over her. She used to believe in this job. Used to care.