Gemotions

He saw the posters first, plastered across campus. Then came the official email. Mark felt a coldness creep through him, starting at his toes and quickly spreading upwards. *Crestwood University to Close at End of Semester.* His blood seemed to turn to ice.

He sat on the curb, staring at the sidewalk. His mind raced, calculating the ramifications. His degree, his job prospects, his entire future. He felt a sharp jab of self-doubt. He bit his lip, tasting blood.

He stood, his legs shaky. He had to get out of there, away from the scene of the crime. He decided to go to the pub, the one place that felt familiar, the one place that he had hope of making a friend.