Gemotions

The spreadsheet blurred before Amelia’s eyes. Hours spent meticulously entering data had rendered her mind a wasteland. She clicked the mouse, a rhythmic tap against the silence of the lab. Her fingers felt heavy, each movement an immense effort. She leaned back in her chair, the squeak a grating sound against the low hum of the fluorescent lights. The clock on the wall seemed to taunt her, its second hand crawling agonizingly slow. She really needed a coffee.

A notification popped up on her screen. An email from the department. Amelia sighed, expecting another logistical nightmare. It was worse. Her advisor, Dr. Chen, was leaving. A knot formed in her stomach. Months, maybe years, of work, all dependent on *his* guidance.