Gemotions

The email landed with the force of a dropped textbook. Professor Anya Sharma, his advisor, was departing. He reread the subject line: “Farewell and Best Wishes.” His fingers tapped a rapid rhythm against the worn desk, the wood vibrating faintly. He stood, pacing the cramped confines of his tiny office. His heart hammered a frantic tattoo against his ribs. The walls seemed to close in, the air thick and charged. He needed… something. He grabbed his battered leather satchel and bolted from the office, the click of the door echoing the sudden, jarring shift in his world.