Gemotions

The professor’s feedback was a blur of red ink, a scathing critique of his work. The final grade, a "C," was like a punch to the gut. He felt the blood rush to his face, making his cheeks burn, and a tightness gripped his chest, making it hard to breathe.

He stormed out of the office, the professor's polite goodbye ringing hollow in his ears. The campus, usually a vibrant space, seemed to shrink, closing in around him.

He walked blindly, ignoring the familiar paths. He kicked at a pebble, sending it sailing across the quad. He wanted to break something, to destroy the world that had dared to judge him so harshly.