Gemotions

The routine had become a suffocating blanket. He showed the new guy, a smug young man named Jason, the processes. Explaining, demonstrating, reviewing. Each gesture felt like a slow, deliberate act of self-entrapment.

"This is how we handle customer complaints," he said, his voice low and monotone. He stared out the window, at the gray sky. He wanted to flee, but from what? The question hung unanswered in the heavy air.

He stared at the blank screen, his fingers twitching, wanting to write something, anything, to break free. He had no words.