Gemotions

The air in the training room was heavy with the scent of coffee and the unspoken tension between them. Sarah, his replacement, was a whirlwind of energy. Thomas had spent the last twenty years in his role, and he was being asked to turn over the keys to a fresh face. He had tried to hide his feelings, to project an image of calm, but he was failing.

He found himself speaking in clipped sentences, his explanations abrupt and hurried. He couldn't meet her gaze for long, and he kept looking at the clock. The seconds felt like an eternity. He was afraid of being judged, of being seen as obsolete.

He felt a prickling sensation on his skin, a feeling that something terrible was about to happen. He wanted to scream, to lash out, but he forced himself to remain still, to continue the charade.