Gemotions

The phone felt heavy in his hand. He’d been staring at it for an hour, the screen lit with the last text message from Dr. Ramirez, his research supervisor. "Off to new ventures. Wish you the best." He’d wanted to call, to ask, to understand. But the words died in his throat.

He tossed the phone onto the couch. His apartment felt too small, the walls closing in. He felt like a ship without a rudder. The enthusiasm he once felt for his work had evaporated, leaving behind a profound sense of emptiness. He just wanted to lie down and sleep, to escape the relentless pressure in his chest. Every breath was an effort.