Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office seemed to hum with a particularly annoying frequency today. Sarah watched, arms crossed, as Mark, her replacement, attempted to navigate the labyrinthine filing system. He fumbled, pulling out the wrong folders, his brow furrowed in concentration. It was a familiar look, one Sarah had worn often in her first few weeks. Now, it just made her teeth itch.

"It's like this," she said, her voice sharp, barely masking the underlying agitation that churned in her stomach. She snatched the folder from his grasp, the sudden movement causing his startled, apologetic look. "You need to understand the Dewey Decimal system. It’s critical."

Her fingers moved with precise, practiced ease, demonstrating the flow of information. He, meanwhile, nodded eagerly, making notes on a pad. His enthusiasm grated on her nerves. She’d spent years perfecting her system, accumulating institutional knowledge that was now being casually… handed off. The thought sparked a fresh wave of unease.