Gemotions

The professor’s office suddenly seemed very small. Liam sat on the edge of the chair, the denial letter folded and refolded in his lap. The professor was still talking, but the words were a muddle, a meaningless drone. He couldn’t process them, couldn’t concentrate.

His vision swam slightly, and he blinked hard to try and regain focus. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture automatic, but his scalp felt cold. The weight of the world pressed down on him, a physical burden he could barely manage.

"So..." the professor was saying, "we can explore other options..." But Liam just nodded, unable to speak, his throat constricted. He didn't know what to say.