Gemotions

He had the project in hand, ready to show the professor. It was an 'F', in bold, angry red. He felt the blood drain from his face. His carefully constructed presentation. His hours of research. All for nothing.

He balled his hands into fists. This couldn’t be right. He felt a pressure building in his temples, a headache beginning to form. He wanted to shout, to tear something apart, to undo the whole situation.

He spun on his heel and walked away, the printout clenched so tightly in his hand that he thought the paper would tear.