Gemotions

The note was stark white against the mahogany of the desk, a stark contrast to the usual chaos of Dr. Albright’s office. Just a few typed lines, barely a sentence: *Off to sail the seas. My successor is Ms. Harding. Albright.* Eleanor crumpled it, the paper crackling like a dying flame. She tossed it into the overflowing wastebasket, watching it settle amongst coffee cups and discarded journals. A bitter taste rose in her throat, souring the breakfast she’d eaten hours ago. Her stomach churned, a dull, repetitive throb. She slammed her fist on the desk, the impact reverberating through her arm.