Gemotions

The email sat in Eleanor’s inbox, unread for nearly an hour. She knew what it said. She’d been expecting it. Professor Davies, her advisor, the only reason she’d chosen this godforsaken university, was abandoning ship. Again. This felt like a punch to the gut.

She finally opened it, scanning the generic “personal reasons” explanation. Liar. He’d probably found a better grant somewhere, a shinier office, a more competent student. Her jaw clenched.

Eleanor swiveled in her chair, staring out the window at the bleak November sky. The campus looked drab, lifeless, like a poorly-tended cemetery. What a waste of her time, this whole degree program.