Gemotions

Her hands, usually clammy, felt cool as she walked towards the disciplinary hearing. Maya ran a hand over her neatly ironed shirt, a gesture of control and preparedness. The weight of the accusation, the fear of expulsion, seemed to shrink with each step.

She thought of the late nights, the countless hours spent on the project. She remembered the thrill of the research process. The way the concepts clicked together, the exhilaration of constructing an argument. It was all real.

The sunlight warmed her face. She would defend her work. She imagined the relief she would feel when everything was over.