Gemotions

The accusations swirled around me like a biting wind. My face felt hot. My palms were damp. I had to prove that this was a mistake.

I took the long route to the professor’s office. I slowed my pace, took several deep breaths. The campus was busy; students hurried to and fro. I watched their easy strides.

When I reached the door, I took another breath. I knocked. The professor invited me in. I explained, in detail, what happened. I’d made an oversight. The evidence did not lie, and now, I would rectify it.