Gemotions

He stared at the blank screen, the cursor blinking, mocking his inability to focus. His fingers, usually swift and sure on the keyboard, felt heavy, clumsy. His mentor, Professor Anya Sharma, had vanished. Not a forwarding address, not a final lecture, not even a casual goodbye over a coffee. Just a terse email from the university: "Professor Sharma has resigned."

He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he hadn't noticed he employed so frequently. His stomach churned. He hadn't realized how much he relied on her, on her guidance, her quiet assurance. Now, a deep and unsettling quiet had settled in his mind. He glanced at the stacks of books and research papers she had guided him through, and felt a sudden, profound sense of being adrift.