Gemotions

The email arrived mid-afternoon, nestled amongst the usual junk and notifications. Professor Armitage was departing. Leaving the university. Amelia reread the sentence three times, each pass a fresh wave of disbelief washing over her. Her thesis, the culmination of years of work, suddenly felt precarious. She dropped her head onto her desk, the cold wood a jarring contrast to the heat blooming in her chest. The air in her small office seemed thick, difficult to breathe.

She pushed herself up, needing to *do* something. The grant application deadline was looming, but the words swam before her eyes. Instead, she wandered the halls, aimless, bumping shoulders with other students. Their hurried strides and bright chatter grated on her nerves. She retreated back to her office, the silence now a suffocating weight.