Gemotions

The meetings stretched on and on, each one an agonizing reminder of his diminishing importance. He would sit there, quietly, and watch the new hire, the younger man, absorb the information that was once his alone. His hands would fidget restlessly, his fingers drumming a silent rhythm against the tabletop.

He began to withdraw, keeping to himself, avoiding conversations. He skipped the company happy hours. He found himself consumed by a strange mix of anger and sadness, a potent cocktail that left him feeling physically drained.

One morning, he woke up with a pounding headache. He tried to get out of bed, but his legs felt heavy. He went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. He barely recognized the person staring back at him. He knew he couldn't keep going on this way.