Gemotions

He felt a sudden chill, a creeping ice that snaked down his spine. Mark checked the coffee pot, but it was still hot. He stared at the printout from his direct supervisor. It was his exact project. The same code. The same projected budget. Every single detail aligned with his own meticulous work.

He swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat. He looked around his cubicle, suddenly exposed. The familiar beige walls seemed to close in, compressing him.

His gaze flickered to Sarah, a woman who always brought in muffins on Thursdays. She was talking on the phone, laughing at something. She looked up, met his eye, and smiled. He quickly looked away, a strange sense of unease settling in him.