Gemotions

"Let's go over the client database again," I told Mark, the eager young man assigned to replace me. My knuckles were white as I gripped the edge of the conference table. The room was stuffy. The overhead lights felt overly bright, amplifying everything.

My palms were slick with sweat. I struggled to concentrate, my mind a jumble of anxieties. It felt like a physical weight on my chest, the knowledge that I was essentially handing over my life's work. It felt… wrong.

"And remember," I said, my voice barely a whisper, "consistency is key." It was almost as if I were pleading to him. I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the silence wrap around me, before continuing. "Are there any questions?"