Gemotions

"Seriously?" Leo mumbled, staring at the announcement on the departmental website. Professor Chen, gone. His advisor. The one person who’d seemed genuinely interested in his research on post-structuralist poetry. He ran a hand through his hair, the strands catching on his fingers.

He hadn’t touched his thesis in almost a week, lost in the distracting allure of online shopping. The world of retail felt so much more engaging than the complicated philosophies he was supposed to be mastering. His phone buzzed; another notification from the university reminding him of the upcoming thesis defense. He ignored it and went back to browsing.

An hour later, the sun was beginning to set. He hadn't moved from the sofa. The half-eaten bag of chips lay beside him, and a thick layer of dust was already forming on the coffee table.