Gemotions

She showed Sarah how to navigate the company intranet, the same system that felt revolutionary when it was first implemented. She remembered the sheer bewilderment it caused when it was new. Now it felt ancient. The cursor, a white block of light, moved across the screen; the clicking of the mouse brought a strange peace.

Her hands, usually quick and efficient, moved with a deliberate slowness. She watched Sarah take notes, her own penmanship crisp and neat. It was very different from her own. The air seemed filled with unspoken memories, a whisper of the past.

“It's all changed,” she found herself saying, her voice a low murmur. “But in some ways, it's exactly the same.” She leaned back in her chair, the springs groaning in protest.