Gemotions

The shadows in the library seemed to lengthen, the flickering fluorescent lights casting dancing shapes that morphed into menacing figures. Every whisper, every rustle of a page, sounded like a clandestine conversation about him.

He hunched over his textbook, pretending to study, but his mind raced. He replayed the scholarship committee meeting in his head, searching for clues, for the subtle cues that might betray him. He wanted to know what they were saying.

He kept glancing at the door, expecting someone to arrive and call him out. His throat constricted with a feeling of dread. He tried to focus, but his concentration was shot.