Gemotions

"He's leaving?" Maya's voice was a barely audible whisper. The information, delivered by a fellow student, had hung in the air like a sweet, fragrant flower. A giddy flutter began in her chest.

She quickly returned to her desk, where her thesis had been open. She looked over the pages of her own work, which she had been afraid to touch. She began rereading the chapters, realizing that it wasn't as bad as she thought. A small smile crept across her face as she looked over her work.

The suffocating weight that had pressed down on her – the fear of his critical eye, the dread of his feedback – seemed to lift. She went back to editing the document. The cursor danced across the screen as she typed.