Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash in his mouth. Michael couldn't quite meet the gaze of the woman he was supposed to be training, his replacement. He'd been with the company for fifteen years, and now, in a matter of weeks, he would be gone.

He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture almost involuntary. The office felt stifling today. The air conditioning was working overtime, yet he felt a simmering unease. He explained the protocol for handling sensitive client data, his voice carefully controlled, but he couldn't shake the sensation of being adrift.

He kept having to repeat instructions, a sign of his internal turmoil. Each explanation felt like a punch to the gut. The world was spinning, and he was losing his balance.