Gemotions

The coffee tasted bitter, a reflection of the mood clinging to him like a shroud. He leaned against the break room counter, observing Amelia absorb his daily routine, like a sponge. The mundane tasks, once a source of irritation, now felt like cherished memories. He wished he'd appreciated the rhythm of the work, the camaraderie of his colleagues, the security of his paycheck.

“So, you’ll be handling the accounts receivable from here on out,” he said, his voice flat. He pointed at a spreadsheet, his finger tracing a familiar path. The knowledge he shared felt heavy, a burden he was passing on.

He considered the missed opportunities, the unfinished projects, the moments he'd taken for granted.