Gemotions

The elevator doors opened, and David stepped out, his usual pep missing. The polished lobby felt sterile, and he felt cold even though it was summer. He spotted Michael, his replacement, already at his desk. A knot tightened in his gut.

"Alright, Michael, let's go over the monthly reports," David said, his voice strained. He felt like a stranger in his own office, a ghost watching someone else take his place.

He avoided eye contact, focusing instead on the spreadsheet, as if by studying the numbers he could somehow make everything alright. But the numbers blurred, the letters dancing before his eyes. It was difficult to focus.