Gemotions

The ache in her jaw was a familiar companion. She’d spent the morning grinding her teeth, and the pressure only intensified as she led David through the labyrinth of their inventory system. He kept asking questions. Questions she could easily answer, but chose not to.

"So, where do the returns go again?" he asked, scratching his head. She pointed vaguely towards a dusty back corner. "Somewhere back there," she replied, her voice barely a whisper. She allowed him to see her at her worst, the most inefficient processes, the parts she never bothered to streamline. Let him see the mess she was inheriting.