Gemotions

The news arrived in a brief, almost dismissive email. Dr. Olsen, her advisor, was leaving. Amelia slumped in her chair, the notification feeling like a physical blow. A sense of detached indifference settled over her. She pushed the email away, as if it were a physical object.

Outside, the birds chirped a cheerful melody that grated on her nerves. The draft of her thesis lay unfinished, a monument to her lack of progress. The words on the page seemed to swirl and blur when she looked at them.

She glanced at the clock. It was still early. Plenty of time. She'd start later. Or maybe tomorrow. A small voice in her head whispered that she'd been saying that for weeks. She got up and opened a new tab on her browser.