Gemotions

He slammed the textbook shut, the sound like a gunshot in the sterile library. David’s pulse hammered against his temples. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he reread the email, the words blurring before his eyes: "Financial difficulties… irreversible decline… closure." He kicked his chair back, the metallic screech grating on his ears. He needed air, needed to get out, away from the hushed tones and the weight of the impending doom. He felt a hot flush crawl up his neck. He shoved his backpack over his shoulder and stalked towards the exit, his strides long and angry.