Gemotions

He had the audacity to be *early*. Mark arrived at the office, a full fifteen minutes before the official start, heart hammering against his ribs. This was it then. This was the end. His replacement, a woman who looked no older than twenty-two, was already cheerfully arranging her desk. He could barely breathe. The air felt thick, suffocating. He excused himself and went to the water cooler, gulping down the icy water, hoping it would calm the pounding in his head.

When he returned, the woman, Sarah, was already attempting to log into his computer. He rushed over, almost tripping on the way. “Don’t… don’t touch that,” he stammered, his voice a reedy whisper. His palms were slick with perspiration. He felt lightheaded, as if the ground might suddenly open up and swallow him whole. Explaining the password protocol felt like climbing a sheer cliff face.