Gemotions

Brenda stared at the email again. "Subject: Training Transition - Brenda & Mark." Mark. The fresh-faced college grad they'd hired last week. She felt a prickling sensation at the base of her skull. It was almost a physical ache, a pressure she couldn’t quite identify.

She navigated her chair closer to the printer. The paper, once it spat out, would confirm her disorientation. She reread the message. “Please assist Mark with the transfer of your duties.” *Transfer?* She’d been there for seven years!

The office was usually a hive of low hums and the click-clack of keyboards. Now, it seemed to amplify the silence. She glanced at the clock. 9:03. Time to greet the new era. She rose, smoothed down her skirt, and began walking toward the kitchenette. To buy time, she thought.