Gemotions

The news had hit Marcus hard, but now, a strange lightness lifted him. He’d spent all night poring over the evidence against him. He knew he'd done nothing wrong. The accusations felt so small compared to his ambition. His mind was racing, connecting disparate ideas, building new arguments, forging a path to exoneration.

He walked with an almost hurried step down the hallway, shoulders back, chin up. Sunlight streamed through the window, highlighting dust motes dancing in the air. He wanted to shout. He wanted to run.

He burst into the Dean’s office, ready to plead his case, and the words tumbled from his lips, a rapid-fire, eloquent defense that stunned even himself. He felt like he could talk for hours. The more he talked, the better he felt.