Gemotions

He stared at the university official across the polished mahogany desk. His palms were slick. The air conditioning was failing, or maybe it was just him. He kept fiddling with the frayed edge of his jeans, the fabric offering a small comfort.

“There’s been a mistake, Mr. Jackson,” the woman said, her voice smooth but the words a punch to the gut. The weight of the world, it felt like, had settled on his shoulders. He didn't say anything, the words caught in his throat.

She continued, detailing the situation. Someone else, with similar qualifications, was the intended recipient. His scholarship, the one that kept him afloat, was going away. He felt a sudden, profound chill. He was going to lose everything.