Gemotions

The coffee cup nearly slipped from David’s trembling hands. He set it down hard on the table, the ceramic clinking against the wood. The cafeteria buzzed with a dull, low murmur – a chorus of disbelief and apprehension. He hated the way his gut twisted. He had made friends, found his footing, and felt like he belonged. All that work, all that investment, could be wasted.

He glared at the newspaper clipping in front of him, the bold headline screaming its unwelcome truth. He felt a throbbing pulse in his temples. He longed to shout, to rail against the unfairness of it all, but something within him – a vestige of politeness, perhaps – held him back.

He saw the faces of the students around him, mirrors of his own shock and frustration. He hated them, too, because they were just as vulnerable as he was.