Gemotions

He picked at the corner of his desk, a nervous habit he hadn't indulged in years. George watched as the intern took copious notes. Every detail, he assumed, was being recorded, analyzed, and filed away for his own demise. He looked around.

"Now, the order process is fairly straightforward," he began. His throat felt tight. He had been with the company for twenty years.

The room was filled with the rhythmic hum of computers, but he felt an internal cacophony. His heart pounded in his chest, a frantic drumbeat of something akin to fear. This entire thing felt cruel.