Gemotions

The afternoon sun streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air, but Claire couldn’t appreciate it. The email was a cold, impersonal intruder. Professor Harrison, her advisor, accepting a position elsewhere. A wave of nausea rolled over her. She got up abruptly, paced the length of her tiny apartment, then sat back down, picking at a loose thread on her jeans. What did this mean for her? For her research? Her future? The questions swirled in her head, an inescapable whirlpool. Her carefully constructed plans now seemed flimsy, precarious.