Gemotions

He’d known something was off the moment Mr. Henderson, his advisor, had asked him to drop by. Even before the words confirmed his suspicions, a current of unease had run through Thomas. He’d barely slept all week, a restlessness plaguing him.

The chair in front of Henderson’s desk felt like a hot seat. He kept fidgeting, his leg bouncing uncontrollably. His palms, usually dry, felt slick with sweat. The advisor’s words hit him like a physical blow. The scholarship, his future, was being given to someone else.

His carefully constructed plan, the years of work, crumbled around him. He stared, speechless, as Henderson rattled off explanations. He swallowed hard, trying to keep the emotion under wraps, failing utterly.