Gemotions

The lecture droned on, a rhythmic hum that did nothing to pierce the thick fog settling in Amelia's brain. She traced patterns on her desk with a pen, the plastic cold and unyielding against her fingertips. Outside, the October wind rattled the skeletal branches of the ancient oak, a sound that oddly matched the restless feeling twisting in her stomach. She’d already checked her phone twice, finding no new messages. Even the prospect of lunch held little appeal; the cafeteria's predictable offerings only seemed to amplify the sense of… emptiness.

Suddenly, a curt cough from the professor jolted her upright. “I have an announcement,” he said, his voice unusually somber. “The university has made the difficult decision to close its doors at the end of this semester.”

Amelia felt the blood drain from her face. Her pen slipped from her grasp and clattered to the floor, echoing in the sudden silence.