Gemotions

"What do you mean, they're closing?" Mark stammered, his voice thin and reedy. The words hung in the air, heavy with disbelief and fear. He felt a cold sweat prickle his skin. He couldn't trust the information until it came from a known source, which might include *them*.

He started checking the campus website every few minutes, refreshing the page with frantic clicks. He scanned every news article, every official statement, looking for clues, for lies, for the truth. His fingers trembled, and his vision swam. The details were obscured.

He found himself avoiding his friends, afraid of their pity, afraid of what they knew that he didn’t. Every conversation felt like a performance, a careful dance around the impending doom. He imagined them plotting behind his back, planning their escape while he was left behind.