Gemotions

The email arrived like a poisoned dart. Dr. Aris Thorne, her advisor, was departing for a position in the private sector. Sarah reread the words, the screen blurring. The air in her tiny apartment seemed to thicken, making it difficult to breathe. She slammed her laptop shut, the metallic clang echoing in the sudden silence. Hours later, she was still hunched over her desk, staring at the closed lid. A cold sweat slicked her palms. Her unfinished research, her hopes, felt like a crumbling castle.