Gemotions

The morning sun was brutally bright, as though mocking him. Mark took a long, slow swallow of his cold coffee, the metallic taste doing nothing to lift his spirits. He hated this. Everything.

He found the trainee, a kid named Kevin, already at his desk, cheerfully organized. Kevin was clearly eager, all bright eyes and optimistic questions. Mark sighed, the sound a soft puff of air.

“Right. The spreadsheets. They’re... complicated,” he stated, his voice flat. He pointed a finger at the screen, as if the complexities were a personal affront. He really didn't want to explain this again, for the fifth time this week. He had already prepared his resignation.