Gemotions

"He's probably pulling my leg," Michael muttered, staring at the email. "Subject: Farewell." He reread the brief message again, the words somehow growing smaller with each pass. "Best of luck, Michael. It’s been a pleasure. – Professor Davies.” A pleasure? That was it? No explanation, no offer of a final meeting, nothing beyond a bland formality.

Michael leaned back in his chair, the cheap plastic creaking under his weight. He pictured Professor Davies, always impeccably dressed, dispensing wisdom with a knowing smile. He’d helped shape Michael's entire career trajectory. And now, poof. Gone.

He got up and walked to the window, the image of Davies' office at the university burned in his mind. The place, usually buzzing with students, was now probably silent, empty like the professor’s sudden departure. He wouldn't believe it until he saw it for himself, though.