Gemotions

The professor’s voice echoed in the lecture hall. "…a truly exceptional piece of writing," he said, holding up a printout. It was hers. The essay about her parents' divorce, a story she'd almost forgotten. She sank lower in her seat, wishing the ground would swallow her whole.

Her cheeks were on fire. She felt like everyone was staring at her, their eyes boring into her soul. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. How could she face him later? The professor, so well-meaning, didn't understand. She should have written something generic, something… less *personal*.