Gemotions

The news hit David during his shift at the campus bookstore. He’d worked here since his freshman year, shelving books, chatting with students, making recommendations. He felt a deep ache in his chest.

He slowly straightened a stack of textbooks, his movements mechanical, his mind elsewhere. The scent of paper and print, usually comforting, now seemed to mock him. It spoke of unfinished theses, of unread novels, of a future that no longer existed. He felt the weight of every unfulfilled promise here.

He leaned against the counter, his legs feeling weak. He’d imagined graduating, getting a "real" job, leaving this place behind. He hadn't imagined he would be forced to leave it like this. Now, all he felt was an emptiness, a void where his future had once been.