Gemotions

“Unbelievable,” Michael muttered, throwing the book across the room. The book, the new release by the beloved Professor Eldridge, lay splayed open on the floor, its pages mocking him. It contained, almost verbatim, his senior thesis.

He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers digging into his scalp. All the late nights, the research, the struggle to articulate his ideas—wasted. He imagined Eldridge, the esteemed professor, basking in the glory of *his* work. The thought sparked a volatile mix of emotions.

Michael paced the small confines of his apartment, the injustice twisting in his gut. He grabbed his phone. He needed to talk to someone, needed to vent this crushing weight. But who could he tell? Who would believe him?