Gemotions

The professor’s congratulations felt like a condemnation. His face remained frozen, his smile wooden. He wanted to scream.

He excused himself quickly from the meeting, barely making it out the door. The hallway felt like a long tunnel, each step an effort. He needed to be alone.

He found himself in the campus chapel, the quiet an unwelcome contrast to the turmoil inside him. He sat down in a pew, staring at the stained-glass windows, but the vibrant colors seemed muted, dull.

He leaned forward, placing his head in his hands. He felt a hot, stinging sensation behind his eyes. He willed himself not to cry.