Gemotions

He stood outside the familiar oak door of the old workshop, the brass plate bearing Professor Eldridge's name glinting in the late afternoon sun. He’d arrived earlier, eager to share his recent breakthrough. Instead, a terse note, taped to the door, informed him of Eldridge's sudden retirement. A cold wave washed over him. He felt like the ground had given way beneath his feet. He knocked anyway, a series of sharp, insistent raps. Silence. He slammed his fist against the wood again, the sound echoing in the empty street. He felt a burning in his chest and a sudden urge to scream.