Gemotions

The phone vibrated insistently against the cold desk. A text from his mother, asking how he was doing. He ignored it. He was not doing good, not even remotely. Professor Silva was gone, vanished, and he was stuck here. The university, once a place of possibility, felt like a cage.

He stared out the window, at the distant green of the campus, feeling the familiar prickle of frustration. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture rough and desperate. He wanted to scream, to rip something apart. He wanted to make someone pay for this.