Gemotions

Sarah slumped against the chipped paint of the library's doorframe, the crumpled flyer clutched in her hand. The news, delivered in a terse email, had sucker-punched her. Her carefully constructed schedule of study groups and part-time shifts now felt pointless, all the effort reduced to nothing.

The air in the library, usually a comfort, felt close and oppressive. She couldn’t bring herself to enter. The books, once inviting, now seemed to mock her with their unread pages. She wanted to scream, but the sound wouldn't come.

Back in her dorm room, the sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. She stared at them for an hour, tracing their pointless, random trajectories, unable to do anything else.