Gemotions

The morning sun, usually a welcome guest, felt like an unwelcome spotlight piercing his closed eyelids. A groan escaped Elias's lips as he considered the day ahead: calculus, a history lecture, and that blasted poetry workshop. He burrowed deeper beneath the covers, the warmth a comforting weight against his inertia. The scholarship notification had been the only reason he’d even bothered dragging himself out of bed these past few weeks. Now, it felt like an anchor.

He vaguely remembered the email. Something about a mix-up, a lost file, a name mis-entered. The university, in its infinite bureaucratic wisdom, was rectifying the situation. His funding would be… adjusted. The reality of needing to work, to actually apply himself, crashed over him like a wave. He pulled the covers over his head.