Gemotions

The truth hung in the air, a thick, suffocating fog. She was in the Dean's office, the plush chairs and polished mahogany table suddenly feeling oppressive. The Dean, a woman with a perpetually tight smile, was explaining the situation, the words like a series of blows. Her world tilted on its axis, and she found herself struggling for control. She felt a flush spread across her cheeks, and her breath hitched. Her palms were damp, and a strange, unfamiliar energy coursed through her limbs. She crossed her legs, hoping to stabilize herself, the leather of the chair cool against her skin. She had to remain calm, but inside, a wildfire was raging.