Gemotions

He found the announcement tacked to the bulletin board, a stark white rectangle in a sea of colorful flyers. His vision swam. He clutched the edge of the board, his knuckles white. They knew. They were all in on it.

He imagined their hushed conversations, the knowing glances, the shared secret that excluded him. The air seemed thick with unspoken conspiracies. He wanted to shout, to demand answers, but his throat felt constricted. He felt as though the announcement, the leaving of his advisor, was a prelude.

He went to his advisor's office, but the door was closed. He paced the hall, pausing at the window. He saw the world turn into a stage. Every movement was a performance, and every person an actor, hiding a carefully crafted truth. He saw his advisor through the window, talking to another professor. He imagined what they were saying.

He needed to confirm his fears. He pulled out his phone, his fingers shaking as he typed a text message, checking to see if he was included. Did they want to get rid of him, too?