Gemotions

Her palms were clammy. The email notification had appeared while she was in the middle of a vital experiment. Now, it was all she could focus on. Professor Moreau had accepted a position at a prestigious think tank. This meant she was losing her advisor.

She felt a surge of heat rush through her, making her temples pound. She felt a desire to scream. Her progress felt tenuous now. Everything seemed to shift, to blur.

She picked at the corner of the email, her fingers trembling. The implications were staggering. She had to find a new advisor, somehow salvage her work. This was not the news she needed.