Gemotions

Her palms were clammy. She kept checking the time on her watch, counting the minutes. The workshop was supposed to be in session. Her mentor, Mr. Davies, was always on time. He was always there. Today, he wasn't.

She sat in the back row, her posture stiff. The rhythmic tap of her foot against the floor was a frantic counterpoint to the quiet. She fidgeted with a pen, clicking it repeatedly, each click a sharp, insistent sound.

The other students were milling about, but she couldn't bring herself to speak to anyone. He just... left. Without a word.