Gemotions

He stared at the blank screen, the cursor blinking, mocking his inability to focus. The training manual lay open beside him, dog-eared and stained with coffee, a testament to his prolonged tenure. He was supposed to be showing Emily, his replacement, how to manage the social media accounts. He’d done it for years, a task that once filled him with a modicum of pride. Now, seeing Emily's bright eyes and efficient typing, he felt only a dull ache. A hollowness.

"And then you schedule the posts," he mumbled, gesturing vaguely. She was already ahead of him, clicking through the interface with effortless ease. He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, feeling the familiar prickle of anxiety. The project he’d poured countless hours into, the one he thought defined him, was now just a series of instructions to be memorized.

He excused himself to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. The reflection stared back, a stranger marked by weariness.