Gemotions

The notice, a stark white rectangle on the brick wall of the student union, felt like a physical blow. Amelia traced the familiar curves of her name, scrawled across a well-worn notebook. The ink bled slightly, a testament to countless late nights and spilled coffee. She took a shaky breath, the air suddenly thick with the ghost of pizza and pre-exam jitters. This place had been her sanctuary, a chaotic haven of mismatched furniture and shared dreams.

She ran a hand along the rough wood of the library’s ancient reading tables, feeling the grooves worn by generations of elbows and hopeful thoughts. The scent of old paper and dust, a smell she had always found comforting, now felt bittersweet. Her college, her second home, was dissolving before her very eyes.

A slow smile crept across her face as she remembered the time she snuck into the auditorium late at night with her friends. She could almost hear their laughter echoing off the high ceilings, a sound that felt more precious than ever.