Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office hummed, a relentless, maddening drone. Sarah tapped her pen against the desk, a rapid-fire staccato against the silence. Across from her, Mark, her replacement, chewed on the end of a pen, a picture of wide-eyed innocence. He was asking the same question for the fourth time. "So, when do I… file this?" Sarah took a deep breath, the air in her lungs feeling thick and heavy.

She gestured towards the overflowing in-tray with a weary hand. "When it's… completed." Her voice held a note of strained politeness. She felt a headache blooming behind her eyes. This was the fifth day of training, and each passing hour felt like an eternity.

Mark blinked. "But… how do I know when it's completed?"

Sarah closed her eyes for a moment, picturing the open road. The smooth tarmac, the wind in her hair. She opened them again. "Look at the checklist, Mark. The one I gave you."