Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office hummed, a relentless drone that amplified the internal static buzzing in Amelia’s head. She stared at the email again – *Training Schedule: Amelia to train Brandon*. Just what she needed. She pushed a stray strand of hair away from her face, the movement heavy, as if her arm was weighted.

Brandon, bright-eyed and brimming with enthusiasm, bounced into the office. "Ready to learn, Amelia!" he chirped. Amelia managed a weak smile, the corners of her mouth feeling stiff, like she hadn't used them in days. She gestured toward the mountain of paperwork on her desk. "Alright, let's start with the basics," she said, her voice a monotone.

The air around her desk felt thick, heavy. She leaned back in her chair, the springs groaning in protest. Brandon's rapid-fire questions felt like a barrage. Amelia answered, each word a monumental effort. She found herself repeatedly zoning out, her eyes glazing over as Brandon excitedly scribbled notes.