Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash. Sarah watched the intern, Michael, effortlessly take over. The presentation she spent a week preparing was now just a collection of slides on a screen, each one a testament to the fact that someone else could now do her job. She felt the sudden urge to retreat, to hide from the reality of the situation.

Her hands were clammy, and she wiped them on her jeans, feeling the rough denim against her skin. The conference room window offered a view of the cityscape, but the beautiful sight seemed to mock her. The sun was shining on a new day, and hers was done.

“And then you just hit ‘send’,” Michael said, his voice brimming with youthful confidence. Sarah nodded, unable to meet his gaze. She busied herself gathering her things, her movements slow and deliberate, each action a silent acknowledgement of her impending departure.