Gemotions

A bead of sweat trickled down Marcus’s temple as he re-read the professor’s brief announcement. “Leaving for a new opportunity.” Opportunity? It was an escape, pure and simple.

His hands shook as he reached for a cigarette. The lighter flickered, nearly singeing his thumb. He felt a bitter taste in his mouth, like the last dregs of cheap whiskey.

He slammed the laptop shut, the metallic clang echoing in the sterile office. All the late nights, all the revisions, all the promises of future collaboration... gone, evaporated like morning dew.