Gemotions

The office felt alien, the sterile air thick with unspoken truths. Arthur found himself sweating profusely, the dampness clinging uncomfortably to his back. His replacement, a man named Brian, possessed an unnerving calmness. Every question felt like a direct attack, every answer a step further into a desolate future. He picked at his fingernails, a nervous habit he had long since abandoned.

He fumbled with the stapler, dropping it with a loud clang. The noise seemed to echo through the silence, amplifying his shame. He kept rambling, explaining processes he barely understood himself. His gaze darted around the room, seeking some form of escape, some sign that this was all a terrible mistake. He wished he could go back, rewind the clock to a time before the summons.