Gemotions

The hum of the server room was a low, insistent thrum that burrowed its way into Karen's brain. From the sunny openness of the art department, this was a claustrophobic change. The air was cool and crisp, but she was sweating.

She’d spent the morning being introduced to the team, a collection of young men who spoke a language of acronyms and technical terms she barely grasped. Their eyes gave the impression that they all knew something she didn't.

She sat at her new desk, staring at the screen. A wave of nausea washed over her as she tried to comprehend the complex diagrams and code that filled the monitor. She felt a profound sense of isolation.