Gemotions

The email sat in my inbox, the subject line a stark announcement: "Departure of Professor Anya Sharma." My heart stuttered. I clicked the message, the words swimming before my eyes. The notification had been buried amongst newsletters and junk. She was leaving at the end of the semester.

I closed my laptop and wandered to the window. Outside, the university quad was bustling with students, oblivious to the news that had just upended my carefully constructed plans. A sharp ache throbbed behind my eyes.

The thought of finding a new advisor, of explaining my project all over again, filled me with a weary dread. It felt like starting the ascent of a mountain, only to discover the peak had shifted. I sank into my chair, the sunlight warming my face but doing nothing to dispel the sudden chill settling in my bones.