Gemotions

"He's *what*?" Mark asked, his voice cracking with a note of unexpected delight. He practically vibrated in his seat, his hands drumming a complex rhythm against the table. Across from him, Professor Davies, the department head, patiently repeated the news: Professor Evans, Mark's thesis advisor, was departing. A smile stretched across Mark's face, wide and uncontainable, and he found himself practically radiating good cheer. This was a chance to actually pursue *his* research ideas.