Gemotions

Heaviness settled in Mark's chest as he sat across from David, his replacement, in the cramped cubicle. He tried to project a calm demeanor, but his palms were slick with sweat. He pointed to the stapler and then at a piece of paper. "First, let me show you how to… uh… staple things." The simplicity of the instruction felt absurd, even to him.

Mark kept catching himself staring at David, a younger, more energetic version of himself, already absorbing the information with ease. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, feeling the unfamiliar ache in his back. He wondered if David noticed the way his voice had a slight quaver, or if he’d picked up on the fact that he was avoiding eye contact.

Mark found himself suddenly preoccupied with the crumbs on his desk, as if they were the most important thing in the world.