Gemotions

"And that's how you handle the Thompson account," he said, his voice a low monotone, barely audible above the whirring of the air conditioning. His throat felt tight, as if a physical barrier had been erected, preventing him from speaking freely. He looked at the new guy, a younger version of himself, brimming with ambition, and found he couldn't meet his gaze.

He remembered the early days of his career, how he'd been so sure, so certain. Now, standing here, watching someone else be initiated into the role, felt like witnessing the demise of a chapter he'd thought would last forever. The coffee in his mug had gone cold, mirroring the frost that had settled over his spirit.

He pointed to a document, his hand trembling slightly. “Make sure you… you pay attention to the details.” The words felt hollow, lacking the genuine advice he'd once offered to others. He just wanted to go home, to be alone, but the thought of his empty apartment was a fresh ache.