Gemotions

The aroma of stale coffee hung in the air, a familiar scent that usually soothed Amelia. Today, however, it seemed to cling to her like a shroud. She walked into the lab, her footsteps echoing a little louder than usual in the empty space. No Dr. Chen hunched over his microscope, no gentle humming, no correction of her sloppy pipette work. Just the quiet hum of the machines and a gaping hole where his desk used to be. She glanced at the Post-it note, a stark white rectangle: *Gone fishing. Good luck, Amelia.* Her stomach churned.

Amelia ran a hand through her hair, a nervous gesture she hadn't realized she’d picked up. The lab bench felt cold beneath her fingers. She'd expected a lecture about her recent presentation, a critique on her data analysis, even a playful jab at her coffee addiction. Anything but… this. She pulled out a chair and sat heavily, feeling the absence of his presence like a physical weight.