Gemotions

The information came in a hushed conversation over lunch in the cafeteria. The words, “College is shutting down,” hung in the air, heavy and poisonous. David, who had always imagined the future in this place, felt his stomach drop.

He looked around at the familiar faces, the conversations, the easy laughter. It all felt fake now, a façade about to crumble. He pushed his untouched food away, the smell suddenly repulsive.

He wanted to scream, to yell at the world, at fate. He excused himself, abruptly and without saying a word, and walked outside, the sun blinding, the air heavy with an unfamiliar sense of impending loss.