Gemotions

A sigh escaped Ethan's lips as he sat in the cold, hard chair. The investigation felt relentless, a slow, grinding machine. The professor's words – "identical phrasing," "lack of originality" – bounced around in his skull, a cruel soundtrack to his current state. He stared at the blank screen of his laptop, the cursor blinking accusingly. He felt drained, the energy having been entirely sucked out of him. His appetite was completely gone. "I can't believe this is happening," he said to himself, the statement more of a deflated exhale.