Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office hummed, a relentless, irritating soundtrack to her solitude. Sarah watched as the new hire, Mark, fiddled with the stapler, his brow furrowed in concentration. It was the same stapler she’d used for three years, the same desk, the same window overlooking the perpetually grey cityscape. A dull ache throbbed behind her eyes.

"So, yeah," she began, her voice flat, "the stapler goes here. Pretty straightforward." She demonstrated, the action feeling mechanical, devoid of any genuine engagement. A phantom weight seemed to press down on her shoulders.

He smiled, a wide, eager gesture. "Thanks, Sarah. I appreciate it." Her smile felt brittle in response, as if it might shatter at any moment. The empty space beside her felt vast. She was desperate for the day to end.