Gemotions

He had walked into the bustling newsroom, expecting the usual cacophony of ringing phones and shouted headlines. Instead, a deathly hush hung in the air. "Old Man Hemmings retired," a colleague mumbled, avoiding his gaze. "Didn't even tell anyone." Mark’s jaw tightened. He walked to Hemmings’s empty desk, his chest constricting. The absence felt physical, a palpable weight pressing down on him. He picked up a discarded newspaper, the paper crackling in his hand. He wasn't sure if he could bring himself to look at it.