Gemotions

The email arrived like a bad omen. Professor Armitage was departing. Leaving. *Really?* Amelia reread the lines, a prickling sensation crawling up her neck. Armitage was the reason she’d chosen this program. His groundbreaking work in comparative literature—it had all seemed so… promising. Now this. She imagined the replacement, a committee, a total stranger... She pushed back from her desk, the cheap plastic of the chair protesting. This felt wrong. She walked to the window, the autumn wind whipping fallen leaves across the quad. She needed a new plan.