Gemotions

The afternoon sun streamed through the window, highlighting the dust motes dancing in the air. John watched as Susan, his replacement, attempted to assemble the complicated piece of equipment. He felt a familiar knot of discomfort in his stomach. He’d spent years mastering it.

He showed her the precise maneuvers, the delicate adjustments, the subtle tricks. He guided her hands, explaining the purpose of each step. His fingers tingled with the memory of working with the machinery.

He made sure she understood the nuances, even the safety precautions. When they were finished, he offered her a thumbs-up. He smiled faintly, a gesture more like a wince.