Gemotions

"Finally," Clara murmured to herself, a broad grin spreading across her face. The news, delivered in a terse email from the department head, had arrived just as she was putting the kettle on. Professor Davies was moving on, departing at the end of the semester. A weight seemed to have lifted from her shoulders.

She spent the afternoon reorganizing her office space, throwing out all the notes and project plans that felt suffocating. She opened the window, letting in the cool air that carried the scent of wet earth and decaying leaves. It felt… liberating. She felt a sudden urge to bake, and the aroma of cinnamon and apples filled her apartment later that evening.