Gemotions

"No, no, no," she repeated, the words a mantra against the rising tide of fear. The university president, a tiny figure on the podium, was droning on. The details didn't matter, only the overarching meaning. The end.

Her hands flew to her face, fingers digging into her cheeks. Her legs felt weak. She wanted to be held, cradled, protected. She felt lost, utterly and completely lost, like a child in a vast, uncaring wilderness.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to shut out the world. The room was spinning. She had to sit down.