Gemotions

The office felt too small. The air felt thick, each breath a conscious effort. I sat there, trying to explain the complexities of the inventory system to this new… *thing*. He was too… cheerful. Too… eager. It made my skin crawl. Every question he asked felt like a deliberate attempt to undermine me.

My hands were clammy. I kept fiddling with the pen in my hand, clicking it on and off, the sound a sharp staccato in the otherwise quiet office. My jaw ached from clenching it so tight.

“Look,” I finally said, my voice barely a whisper, “just… follow the prompts. Okay?” The words felt inadequate, hollow. I needed to escape.