Gemotions

The email arrived like a gift, a shimmering beacon in the usual deluge of university correspondence. Dr. Albright, her advisor, was departing. Leaving. The words danced on the screen. She leaned back in her chair, the leather creaking in what felt like a celebratory dance. A grin, wide and unbidden, stretched across her face.

A long exhale escaped her, a sound almost musical in its release. The tight knot in her stomach, a familiar companion during all their meetings, dissolved. She felt a lightness, a buoyancy she hadn't experienced in months.

She immediately opened a new tab, a search for “best thesis advisors at [a rival university].” Her fingers flew across the keyboard. This was going to be better than she imagined.