Gemotions

The note was stark white against the mahogany of his mentor’s desk. "Gone fishing. Good luck, kiddo." That was it. No phone call, no email, no final handshake. Just those six words. Elias balled the paper in his fist, the edges digging into his palm. He’d practically lived in this office for the last five years, soaking up every lesson, every piece of advice. He’d thought they had a connection, a shared understanding. He slammed the office door shut, the sound echoing in the sudden emptiness.