Gemotions

A tremor ran through Liam's hands as he held the professor's announcement. He was perched at the edge of his seat in the coffee shop, the lukewarm latte suddenly unappealing. He took a long, shallow breath. The words on the screen blurred slightly. The aroma of roasting beans, usually comforting, now seemed to assault his senses. He needed to get moving. He needed to do *something*.

His thoughts raced. He pictured the project, the research, the deadline looming closer every day. He felt a desperate urge to scribble notes, to make lists, to plan, plan, plan. He felt a twitch in his left eye. He slammed his fist down softly on the table.