Gemotions

The newspaper headline felt wrong in Leo’s hands. *Local University to Shut Down*. He ran a fingertip across the ink, as if to wipe away the words, but they remained, stubbornly there. He sat on the park bench, his usual spot, the familiar rustling of leaves a discordant sound.

He stared at his hands, watching them tremble slightly. He couldn't quite process the words. He'd spent years working toward his degree. He felt a sudden, sharp pang of disorientation, as if the ground beneath him had shifted. What did this mean for him?

The squirrels, usually a source of amusement, seemed to dart about without purpose. The air around him felt strangely empty. He closed his eyes for a moment, and saw only swirling darkness.