Gemotions

The coffee cup shattered against the wall, ceramic shards scattering across the sterile white of the break room. He'd gone to the lab, eager to share his findings, to bask in Dr. Eleanor Vance's approval, the way he always did. Then the secretary, her face a mask of polite neutrality, had delivered the news. Retired. No warning. No farewell. Just… gone. He wanted to explode, to rip the notice off the bulletin board and shred it to dust. His pulse hammered against his temples. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging so hard he thought he might pull it out by the roots. How dare she? After all the time, the guidance, the shared breakthroughs?