Gemotions

"He just…left?" Sarah echoed, her voice thin. The office manager, Mrs. Gable, merely nodded, her face impassive. Mr. Chen, her supervisor, her guide in the intricate dance of international trade, had simply vanished. His desk was spotless, devoid of the usual scattered reports and half-empty coffee mugs. The only thing out of place was a small bonsai tree, meticulously pruned, sitting on his desk. He had taught her so much. Now she felt as though she was wandering the landscape without a map. She fiddled with the pen on her desk, clicking it repeatedly, a rhythmic drumming against the silence.