Gemotions

He’d always thought he’d leave on his own terms. Now, here he was, staring across the desk at… her. Maya. He hated the name. He picked up his pen and tapped it against the surface of the desk, a rapid, nervous rhythm. The rhythmic clicking echoed in the otherwise quiet room. His mouth felt dry. He cleared his throat. "So, Maya, this is the… the report generation software." His voice cracked slightly.

He ran his hand through his thinning hair, a gesture he’d repeated countless times that morning. He felt a sharp pang of envy as he looked at her young, eager face. He realized he didn’t even remember the last time he felt eager about anything in this place.