Gemotions

She slammed the phone down, the plastic receiver rattling against the cheap desk. That blasted Dean with his carefully worded platitudes about “prioritizing student success” and “exploring all avenues.” Success? Success for *whom*? Surely not for her, now facing a mountain of debt and a useless degree. She gripped the worn edge of the desk, her knuckles white. She envisioned a raging inferno, consuming the campus buildings, the library, the student union – everything. The thought of it, instead of inducing fear, made her lips curl slightly upwards.