Gemotions

He found himself staring at the worn leather chair behind the desk, the chair where Mr. Henderson always sat, dispensing wisdom and dry wit in equal measure. A leaden weight pressed down on Arthur's chest, making it hard to breathe. The office felt vast, almost hostile, now that his mentor was gone. He walked around the chair, tracing its contours with a hesitant hand.

Arthur reached for the crumpled note on the desk. Just a brief message from the secretary, stating Henderson had left, effective immediately. No explanation. He felt a sting behind his eyes, a feeling he hadn't experienced since he was a child. The fluorescent lights hummed, a monotonous drone that amplified the emptiness in the room. He sank into a chair in front of the desk, the silence of the office pressing in on him.