Gemotions

The silence in the dorm room was deafening. Michael tossed and turned in his bed, unable to find a comfortable position. His mind raced, replaying the conversation with Dr. Olsen, the words stinging like a fresh wound. His thesis, his future, everything felt suddenly fragile. He kicked off the covers, his skin prickling with sweat. He got up and began to pace. Each footstep on the cold floor was a measure of the anxiety that was building inside him. He needed something, anything, to quiet the internal storm.