Gemotions

The professor’s office hours were a joke, a test of fortitude. Daniel arrived precisely at the stated time, but the door was locked. He paced the hallway, back and forth, glancing at his watch every thirty seconds. He could hear muffled voices from behind the door. He imagined the professor, leisurely sipping coffee, oblivious to the anguish brewing in the hallway. Finally, the door opened. The professor apologized, his voice light and airy. Daniel could barely contain himself. He struggled to maintain a civil tone as he explained the situation. He felt a throbbing pulse in his temples. He wanted explanations. He needed answers. Immediately.