Gemotions

He’d sat through the meeting, a lump lodged in his throat, each word of the professor’s condemnation a tiny, stinging barb. David felt his face flush, a heat spreading from his chest. His fingers itched to grab the printed Turnitin report and tear it to shreds. The claim was preposterous. He knew he'd cited everything, meticulously footnoted every source.

Now, outside the office, the air felt thick, oppressive. The campus, usually a haven of youthful energy, seemed to mock him with its carefree atmosphere. A group of students passed, chattering and laughing. He wanted to push past them, to shove them aside, to scream at them to just… leave him alone. He kicked a loose pebble across the pavement with unnecessary force.