Gemotions

The coffee cup trembled in Leo's hand, sloshing hot liquid onto the pristine white tablecloth. He couldn't quite believe the note. A single, handwritten sentence on a Post-it note stuck to his door: “Off to find my own lighthouse. Good luck." He reread it, over and over, his vision blurring. He felt a desperate urge to run, to chase after him, but where would he even begin? The lecture hall felt vast, empty, suddenly devoid of its purpose. His throat constricted, and he felt a burning sensation in his eyes.