Gemotions

The numbers swam before John's eyes. His brow furrowed in concentration. How could this be? He’d reread the chapters, worked through the practice problems, and yet… the mark was abysmal. He felt the blood drain from his face, leaving him feeling hollow.

He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking under his weight. A dull ache began to throb behind his temples. He closed his eyes, picturing the professor’s face, searching for any sign, any hint, any indication that this was coming. There was none.

He opened his eyes, staring at his desk. The books, usually a source of comfort, now seemed alien and unwelcoming. He let out a long, slow breath, trying to steady himself, and failing.