Gemotions

The telephone rang, and it was Dr. Peterson's secretary. The news was delivered in a hushed, apologetic tone. As the secretary recited the facts, I felt a peculiar sensation in my chest, a tightening, a pressure. Everything felt wrong, as if the very air had changed. Professor Henderson, the mentor who’d taken a chance on me, was leaving.

I couldn’t speak. I put the phone down, my hand shaking. The world seemed to fall away. The image of the setting sun painted on my wall felt different now, more dramatic, almost ominous. I was supposed to have more time. I was not ready.