Gemotions

The air in the university cafeteria felt thick with tension. Across from me sat Ben, facing charges of copying another student’s art project. His usually bright eyes were clouded with fear. I knew Ben, a talented artist with a big heart, always ready to lend a helping hand.

The accusation felt like a cruel twist of fate. I watched him fidget with his fork, barely touching his food. I remembered him spending hours helping me with my own project, patiently explaining techniques.

I reached across the table, touching his arm lightly. "It's going to be okay," I said, trying to infuse my voice with strength. The words felt inadequate, but the physical contact seemed to bring some measure of solace.