Gemotions

The afternoon sun, usually a welcome visitor, felt like a spotlight on Mark's discomfort. It streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes that danced mocking jigs in the air. He sat across from his replacement, a young woman named Emily, the air thick with a tension he could barely bear.

"So, the first thing you'll need to do..." He paused, the words sticking in his throat. His throat felt tight, and his chest felt constricted. His hands trembled slightly as he reached for the mouse, his movements slow and deliberate, a stark contrast to Emily's bright and animated presence.

He struggled to feign enthusiasm. Each tutorial felt like a betrayal. His entire being strained against the act. The smile on his face felt like a mask, ready to crack.