Gemotions

He watched the new guy, Mark, take his seat. It was a perfect fit, a seamless transition. A grimace twisted Leo’s mouth. The chair felt too small now, the office too bright. The air seemed thick with the scent of ambition, a smell that turned his own insides to lead. He pointed to the stapler, his finger trembling slightly. “That’s, uh, that’s where you staple things.” He felt a wave of emptiness wash over him, a cold tide pulling him further from his moorings. His gaze drifted to the window, the city a blur of indifferent activity.