Gemotions

Her stomach twisted into a cold knot as she watched the new hire, Mark, navigate the office. It was a familiar space; she’d known it for years. Now, it felt foreign, as though the furniture had been rearranged in the middle of the night. She fiddled with the stapler, clicking it repeatedly, a nervous tic.

"Alright, so the first thing is the email template," she said, her voice sounding higher-pitched than usual. Mark nodded, his expression open and eager, and she felt a fresh surge of… well, something unpleasant.

She pointed to the correct email format on the screen, her heart pounding in her chest. Each instruction she gave was like a small piece of her own identity being handed over. She noticed a drop of sweat trickle down her temple.

Every shared tip, every insider’s secret, chipped away at her sense of belonging. The fluorescent lights overhead seemed to grow brighter, casting long, distorted shadows that stretched across the floor.