Gemotions

The email sat in Maya’s inbox, unread, for an hour. The fluorescent hum of the library seemed louder than usual. She traced a finger over the smooth surface of the wooden table, the wood cool against her skin. A knot formed in her stomach. It wasn’t the news she wanted, but she knew, deep down, something was off. The campus had felt… emptier this term.

She finally clicked it open. The words blurred at first, but then snapped into focus: *University Closing Down*. Her breath hitched. The library, once a bustling hub of activity, felt suddenly vast and desolate. All those late nights spent here, hunched over books, fueled by lukewarm coffee and ambition. All gone.

The scent of old paper and ink usually comforted her, but now it felt suffocating. She closed her laptop, her fingers trembling. The weight of all her unfinished projects, her unfulfilled dreams, pressed down on her like a physical burden. She had to leave.