Gemotions

He stared at the university bursar, the man's words echoing in his ears. "There's been a mix-up, Mr. Davis," the bursar had said, his voice clipped and efficient. David’s jaw was clamped, his muscles seizing up. He couldn't seem to unclench them. He'd been so sure, so certain of this support.

He gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles white. The bursar continued, explaining the investigation, the reallocation of funds. David was aware of the murmuring in the hallway behind him, but he could not focus. It was as if someone had punched him in the gut. The world was spinning, and he felt a desperate urge to flee the room, to escape this conversation, but his feet were planted, heavy and immobile. He was trapped.