Gemotions

A cold dread coiled in David's stomach as he walked into the office. This was it. The official handover. He was training the viper that would replace him. He felt leaden, slow. His feet seemed to stick to the floor with every step.

The new guy, Mark, was annoyingly eager. Every question was punctuated with a wide grin and a rapid-fire series of observations. David found himself answering in short, clipped sentences, each one a monumental exertion of will. He kept rubbing his temples, a dull ache throbbing behind his eyes.

He attempted to explain the complex database system, but his thoughts felt murky, tangled. He stumbled over his words, losing his train of thought repeatedly. Mark, thankfully, seemed unfazed, patiently waiting for David to regroup. But the wait felt interminable.

"So," Mark chirped at the end of the day, "How about tomorrow we go over the client onboarding procedures?" David just nodded slowly. He could barely muster the energy to meet Mark's enthusiastic gaze. He just wanted to go home and lie down.