Gemotions

The old observatory was dark and cold. Sarah shivered, despite the layers of clothing. Professor Klein, her mentor, was no longer there. His name was on the door, but it had a lock on it. An email informed the class that he would no longer be teaching. No goodbye. No explanation.

She ran her hand along the cold metal of the telescope, the instrument they had shared countless nights with. The stars seemed less bright. She had come to the observatory hoping to learn, to discover, and to share her findings with her mentor.

She sat in his worn leather chair, the silence punctuated only by the occasional creaks of the old building. She clutched a notebook, filled with her calculations, hoping to feel closer to him. She began to cry, and the tears fell onto the paper, blurring her equations.