Gemotions

The email was late. He checked his phone again, the screen a cold gleam in the dim lecture hall. Sunlight was filtering through the dirty windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air, a dance that felt mocking in its slow, deliberate pace. He drummed his fingers against the worn wooden desk, the rhythmic tapping a counterpoint to the professor’s droning voice. He glanced at the clock on the wall; ten minutes until the end of the class. He just wanted to go and check his email.

He’d been waiting for this all semester. He bit down on his lip. The news had to come through today, he could feel it. The whispers, the nervous glances, the sudden meetings behind closed doors… It all screamed the inevitable.

He shifted in his seat, his leg bouncing restlessly. He imagined the email, the terse wording, the official tone. He wished they would just get it over with, whatever it was.