Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office hummed, a monotonous sound that matched the slow thudding in Maya's chest. She leaned back in her chair, the cheap plastic creaking in protest. Her gaze drifted to the window, the grey sky mirroring her mood. They were calling him "the future," this fresh-faced kid with the too-eager smile. Today, she had to show him the ropes, the same ropes that now felt heavy in her hands.

“Alright, let's start with the database,” Maya said, her voice flat, the words feeling like a chore. She gestured towards the computer screen with a limp wave.

He scribbled furiously in a notebook, his pen a blur of motion. Each click of the mouse, each keystroke, seemed to echo in the hollow space inside her. She felt drained, as if her own energy was being siphoned away, leaving behind an empty shell.