Gemotions

"So, they're letting the old goat go, are they?" Mark grunted, leaning back in his chair, the cheap plastic creaking under his weight. He was addressing the empty chair across from him, the one usually occupied by his advisor, Professor Davies. The news had arrived this morning. Davies, off to some 'research fellowship' in Switzerland.

He cracked his knuckles, a sharp series of pops. He'd been looking forward to Davies's annual lecture series. He'd been looking forward to arguing with the man about the validity of his research.

He considered the abandoned coffee cup on the desk, the ring of dried coffee staining the paper. He really should throw it out, but he didn't move. He'd find someone to replace Davies, someone who would actually *care* about his work.