Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash. Michael sat across from his replacement, Ben, in the break room. Ben was bright-eyed and full of questions. Michael answered them with practiced efficiency, but his replies felt hollow, empty of any genuine enthusiasm. He poured himself another cup of coffee, not to drink, but to occupy his hands.

"And how does the inventory system work?" Ben asked. Michael pointed with his finger. His apartment felt like a tomb. It echoed with the silence of a life lived mostly alone. He felt a deep ache inside, a yearning for connection that he didn't know how to satisfy.

The break room door opened and closed with a clatter, and they were left again with their mutual emptiness. The office was always filled with a cacophony of voices, but it still felt too quiet.