Gemotions

He ran a hand through his hair, finding a few stray strands of gray that weren't there last week. The air in the breakroom felt thick, suffocating. Mark stared at the empty coffee pot, wishing he could just disappear. Today, he had to mentor young, ambitious Jason.

"Okay, so here's how we handle the complaints," Mark said, his voice clipped. The words felt heavy, like lead weights in his mouth. Jason, enthusiastic, scribbled notes.

Mark found himself avoiding Jason's gaze, studying the intricate patterns of the linoleum floor. He felt a cold prickle along his spine. He'd poured years into this job, only to be…replaced. The thought sent a fresh wave of acid churning in his stomach.