Gemotions

The air conditioning in the IT department was always frigid. Now, in the sun-drenched sales office, Maya felt a bead of sweat trickle down her back. She kept touching her forehead. The change was abrupt. One minute she was surrounded by servers and the low thrum of fans, the next, by aggressive sales pitches and the constant ringing of phones.

She missed the predictable logic of code, the certainty of debugging. Here, everything felt fluid, subject to negotiation and whim. She stood awkwardly by the water cooler, the plastic cup cold against her trembling hand.

“So, you’re the tech guru?” A man with overly-gelled hair leaned close, his breath warm on her neck. “Need help with the system, or just want to chat?” Maya mumbled something in response, but the words felt clumsy and ill-formed in her mouth. She wished she had never left the basement level.