Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office seemed to hum a mocking tune, a constant reminder of the life he was leaving behind. He watched Maya, his replacement, navigate the software, her brow furrowed in concentration. He forced a smile, the muscles in his face protesting. Each click of the mouse, each question Maya posed, was a tiny jab at his departing self. He felt a hollowness in his chest, a deep ache that echoed the emptiness of his cubicle now that his belongings were packed away.

He demonstrated the intricacies of the client database, the tips and tricks he'd amassed over five years. He should have been happy, eager to share his knowledge, but the words felt like lead in his mouth. He focused on the screen, trying not to meet her enthusiastic gaze.

His own enthusiasm, once so vibrant, had withered.