Gemotions

He showed the newcomer the ropes, the same ropes he'd been navigating for a decade. The office felt stifling, the air thick with the scent of old paper and stale coffee. He felt like he was watching a stranger step into his life. His life, and what was that, exactly?

"Okay, so here's the deal with the printer," he said, his voice a low monotone. He gestured. It was routine. He felt the familiar weight of isolation pressing down. It was a weight he’d carried for as long as he could remember.

His apartment. The silence was deafening when he returned each night. It was the only constant companion he had. He wanted to scream.