Gemotions

The email notification chimed, and Professor Davies snorted, leaning back in his worn leather chair. He’d known this day was coming. He'd predicted it, practically orchestrated it with his dismissive attitude towards the new curriculum. He tapped the 'delete' button, the message about the college's imminent closure disappearing with a finality that pleased him. He steepled his fingers, a small smile playing on his lips. His department, the *best* department, had already secured funding for their research elsewhere. The failures of administration did not affect *him*.