Gemotions

The email sat in Eleanor’s inbox, a stark white rectangle against the muted grey background. Professor Harding was resigning. She read it again, her jaw clenching with each word. The university was so proud of her – her ‘outstanding contributions’ and ‘commitment to excellence.’ What a load of tripe.

Eleanor slammed her laptop shut, the sound echoing in the sterile silence of her tiny apartment. Harding's guidance had been…adequate. Now, she was left to navigate the murky waters of her thesis alone, or worse, with some other academic lightweight.

She grabbed a half-eaten bag of chips from the counter and crunched down hard, the sound a deliberate assault on the quiet. She thought of calling her parents to moan, but decided against it. They'd just repeat the same platitudes, the same useless pep talks.