Gemotions

He ran a hand over his freshly shaven head, the action oddly soothing. Liam leaned against the chipped brick wall of the financial aid office, a small, worn notepad clutched in his hand. The news that his grant was a mistake had sunk in quickly, but what was left was a dull ache. The woman behind the desk had offered apologies, but the words felt thin, insufficient. He asked a few clarifying questions, wrote them down, then asked a few more, not because he didn't understand, but because it calmed the rising tide of… something. He nodded slowly as she explained the appeal process. He could file, he would, he knew. He looked at his shoes, at the cracks in the pavement outside.