Gemotions

The air in the lab was thick with the scent of chemicals and the hum of machinery, a symphony of sounds she'd grown to love. She ran a gloved hand across the smooth, cool surface of a microscope. It felt good to be there, to be immersed in the precision of her research. She knew where she was going; the path was clear and well-lit. Professor Bellweather had cultivated a climate of collaboration.

The department head called a meeting. She knew, then, that something was changing, a feeling akin to the first tremor before a quake. Professor Bellweather had a new opportunity, it was announced. The world around her wobbled.