Gemotions

The aroma of stale coffee hung heavy in the air, a familiar scent in the quiet of the office after hours. Sarah stared at the screen, the lines of code blurring. Her shoulders ached from hunching over her desk, the muscles tight with tension. Another late night. Another push. She thought of her grandfather, the way he would sit in his armchair, hands clasped, after a long day in the garden, and a wave of something akin to exhaustion washed over her.

A shadow fell across her monitor. She looked up, startled, to see Mark, his face pale under the fluorescent lights. He held a thumb drive, its plastic casing catching the light. He looked… defeated.

"I think," he began, his voice barely a whisper, "we might have a problem." The drive, he explained, contained his project. *The* project. The one she had poured her heart and soul into for the past year. She felt a hollowness in her chest, a sudden need to sit down even though she was already seated.