Gemotions

The accusation hung in the air like stale cigarette smoke. Elias hunched in his chair, the cheap plastic scraping against the linoleum floor. His hands, usually animated, lay limp on the desk, knuckles white. He stared at the email on his laptop screen, the words of the professor blurring. He felt a leaden weight in his chest, making it difficult to breathe. He wanted to scream, to lash out, to disappear. Instead, he just sat there, a statue of dejection, the fluorescent lights of the library amplifying the hollowness he felt.