Gemotions

He fiddled with the buttons on his worn cardigan, the wool catching on his dry skin. He found it difficult to look at the young woman, eager and bright, perched on the edge of the conference table. The conference room itself was the same, but somehow, different.

It was hard to believe he was at the end of his time. He’d helped construct this very building, watched it grow from foundations to the present. He’d seen colleagues come and go, promotions, firings. Everything felt so significant.

He took a deep breath. "The spreadsheets... they're your bible," he said, his tone unusually solemn. He leaned forward, gesturing to the monitor with a hand that trembled slightly. "Pay close attention to detail."