Gemotions

He found the email while sprawled on his bed, the familiar hum of his laptop a backdrop to his quiet existence. "Dear Students," it began, and his heart sank. The weight of the news settled in his stomach, a heavy, unwelcome guest.

He skipped dinner, a ritual he usually enjoyed with his friends. The apartment felt vast and silent, echoing with the absence of conversations. He felt a profound sense of being adrift, cast away. He tossed and turned in bed, the sheets twisted around him, a knot of unease in his gut.

He went for a walk at dawn, the city streets still sleeping. The cold air did not help. The few people he saw were coupled off, chatting and laughing. He felt a deep sense of separation, like he was looking through glass.