Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash. Michael stared at the swirling brown liquid in his mug, the bitterness reflecting the churning in his stomach. He was supposed to be showing this kid, Jason, the ropes. Jason, who already seemed to know everything.

"So, yeah, I took a course on that in college," Jason had said with a casual shrug, regarding a complex process that Michael had spent weeks mastering. It was as if all his hard work, all his dedication, meant nothing.

Michael took a deliberate, slow sip, the heat doing little to soothe the cold knot that had formed in his chest. His hands trembled slightly as he picked up the phone, dialing a number he probably shouldn’t be calling during work hours.

"Hey, it's me," he muttered into the receiver, the words catching in his throat.