Gemotions

The familiar scent of old books and coffee usually comforted him. Not today. He sat in the university library, the email from Professor Klein still fresh in his memory. She was leaving. It was a cold, efficient announcement.

He traced the spine of a well-worn book, his fingers lingering on the title. The thought of explaining his research to someone new, of adjusting to a different style, filled him with a quiet despair.

He looked up at the high, arched windows, the sunlight streaming through the dust motes. The library, once a place of inspiration, now felt isolating. He closed the book, the leather cool against his palm. His throat felt tight, and a sense of profound sadness settled over him.