Gemotions

The email arrived mid-lecture, a stark black rectangle amidst the Professor’s PowerPoint slides. Clara felt a jolt, a physical tremor that rippled through her. Her breath hitched. The screen blurred. She surreptitiously slipped the phone into her backpack, heart hammering against her ribs.

Her fingers fidgeted, picking at the frayed edge of the worn canvas. The room seemed to shrink, the voices of the other students fading into a muffled drone. She couldn't focus on the professor’s dissection of Keats. Instead, the words on the screen, the announcement, replayed in her mind like a broken record.

Later, she walked the familiar campus paths, the sun suddenly too bright, the familiar trees appearing alien. Each brick of each building, each statue, once a comfort, now felt like a taunt. Her steps grew quicker, a desperate attempt to outrun the feeling that clawed at her insides.