Gemotions

The email sat in my inbox, the subject line a scarlet stain on the pristine white background. Professor Albright was departing. Leaving. Abandoning. The cursor pulsed, mocking me. Five years, five grueling years of sweat and sacrifice, all for what? A half-finished thesis and a future suddenly as murky as the coffee in my mug. I slammed the laptop shut, the metallic clang echoing in the sterile silence of my apartment. My jaw clenched so tight, I was certain I could shatter bone.

Later, I saw him, Albright, strolling across campus, a breezy smile plastered across his face. It was as though he were on a jolly holiday. He didn’t even seem to notice me, and the lack of acknowledgement ignited something within me. A knot tightened in my stomach, a cold fist squeezing the life out of my insides. I quickened my pace, nearly colliding with a group of giggling undergraduates, but didn't apologize.