Gemotions

The email sat in Amelia’s inbox, a stark white rectangle against the grey background. She kept clicking on it, then minimizing it, then clicking on it again, as if the words would somehow change. Her hands were clammy, and the air seemed to thicken with each passing second. The ceiling fan whirred overhead, doing nothing to cool the sudden flush that crept up her neck.

She reread the subject line: “Important Announcement Regarding University Operations.” Dread coiled in her stomach, a slow, painful knot. This couldn’t be happening. She had finally found her footing, made friends, and was just starting to feel like she belonged.

Amelia’s lower lip trembled as she scrolled through the email’s sterile prose, each sentence a hammer blow. The university was shutting down, effective at the end of the semester. She felt as though the floor had given way beneath her feet.