Gemotions

The paper, stained with coffee rings and tears, lay on the desk. He hadn't noticed the tears at first; they were just another damp spot on a document already overflowing with revisions. But the "F" in red ink was impossible to ignore. His hands clenched into fists.

He wanted to scream, to smash something, to make this feeling, this leaden heaviness in his gut, disappear. He pushed his chair back, sending it crashing to the floor. He needed air, needed to get away from the crushing reality that was now his academic record.