Gemotions

Maya practically skipped down the campus path, her backpack bouncing against her spine. Sunlight warmed her face, and the crisp autumn air filled her lungs. She’d been dreading the Monday morning faculty meeting, but now, a strange sort of buoyancy lifted her feet. She grinned at a passing squirrel, something she never would have done before. The dean’s email, announcing the publication of her essay, was a jolt.

The essay, "The Architecture of Abandonment," about her childhood home, was now a shining example on the university’s website. She’d poured her heart into it, and for a long time, the vulnerability it required had felt like a weight. Now, though, that weight had vanished, replaced by an expansive lightness.

Reaching the library, she felt compelled to sprint. Inside, she barely contained a shout of laughter. She would start that research project she'd been putting off. Today was going to be a good day.