Gemotions

The spreadsheet shimmered, rows and columns blurring into a meaningless grid. Elias chewed the inside of his cheek, the familiar pressure a mild distraction from the task. He ran a hand through his already messy hair, a gesture devoid of energy. The meeting room was sterile, the air thick with the scent of stale coffee and forced enthusiasm. Across the polished table, the other man, a Mr. Sterling, continued speaking, his tone a bright, overblown pitch.

"...and that, as you can see, is our projected growth trajectory. Revolutionary, wouldn't you say?" Mr. Sterling gestured expansively at a chart that looked identical to the one Elias had spent the last three months perfecting. He hadn't bothered to personalize it. The same fonts, the same colors, the same utterly predictable data.

A knot formed in Elias's stomach, a familiar sensation when facing the mundane. He pushed back from the table, the chair scraping a discordant note. "Right," he muttered, his voice flat. "Interesting." He had a dentist appointment. He needed to leave.