Gemotions

He felt a tightness in his chest, a constricted feeling that made it hard to breathe properly. Mark glared at the screen, the swirling graphics of the training software mocking him with their complexity. He'd been doing this job for five years, and now he had to boil it all down for this… this kid.

"So, yeah, you see this bar?" Mark snapped, his voice rough. His head throbbed, a dull ache behind his eyes.

The newbie, all eager smiles and polite questions, leaned forward, her pen poised over a notepad. Mark wanted to scream. He wanted to tell her to figure it out herself, to swim or sink. Instead, he forced a smile that felt tight and brittle.

He gestured impatiently, explaining the nuances of the data entry process for what felt like the hundredth time. His palms felt clammy, and he wiped them surreptitiously on his jeans. This whole charade was making him ill.