Gemotions

He avoided the department hallways, the fluorescent lights and hushed conversations amplified a hollow ache inside. He'd seen the notice, of course, the stark black and white words announcing Professor Chen's retirement. This morning, he'd skipped breakfast, finding even the thought of food repulsive.

His apartment felt suffocating, the books and papers on his desk a jumbled reminder of the work that lay ahead. A thick fog seemed to have settled over his mind, making it difficult to concentrate. He spent hours staring at his laptop screen, the cursor blinking mockingly, refusing to write a single sentence.

He felt adrift, untethered. He pulled the covers over his head and stayed in bed until dusk.