Gemotions

He glared at the email on his laptop screen. The subject line, “Possible Academic Dishonesty,” burned in his vision. A knot tightened in his stomach. He’d meticulously crafted this paper, citing everything, re-writing, editing. Now, they were implying he hadn’t done his own work. He slammed the laptop shut, the metallic clang a sharp punctuation to his thoughts.

He paced his tiny dorm room, the worn rug doing little to soften his steps. His jaw clenched. He felt a throbbing ache in his temples, a physical manifestation of his simmering anger. He pictured the smug look on the TA's face, the dismissive wave of the professor's hand. This felt like a personal attack, a deliberate attempt to undermine everything he'd worked for.