Gemotions

The clock on the microwave seemed to mock her, ticking away the minutes like a countdown. Sarah felt a peculiar fluttering in her chest, like a trapped bird trying to escape. Her replacement, a man named Bob, had an unnervingly calm demeanor. He asked questions with genuine interest, scribbling notes in a pristine notebook. The polite conversation grated on her nerves.

Each step of the training felt like a betrayal. She gestured at the filing cabinet, suddenly convinced it held a secret, a reason for all this. Bob asked if there was a particular system for the files, and her breath hitched. Her stomach lurched as she realized she had no system. She had been just getting by. "Just… alphabetize," she squeaked, her voice trembling. The room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in.