Gemotions

It was as if his whole life was flashing before his eyes. The coffee machine, the filing system, the office politics – it all became monumental, a vast and complex world that only he, apparently, could understand. He felt a desperate urge to explain everything, to justify his existence. His replacement, a guy named Tom, was leaning back in his chair, seemingly relaxed. He kept clearing his throat, his vocal cords constricting.

The temperature in the room seemed to fluctuate wildly, alternating between freezing and sweltering. He pointed at the computer screen, the words swimming before his eyes. “Okay, so, this is the… the intranet,” he stammered, his voice barely audible. He felt the blood pounding in his temples, a relentless drumbeat of dread.