Gemotions

The rejection email thudded into Maya’s inbox, a digital fist to the gut. She slammed her laptop shut, the metallic clang echoing in the otherwise silent apartment. Sunlight streamed through the blinds, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air, a scene of infuriating normalcy.

She marched to the kitchen, yanking the fridge door open with more force than necessary. The sudden chill did little to soothe the heat prickling her skin. Grabbing a carton of orange juice, she upended it over a glass, the liquid sloshing over the side.

"Damn it," she muttered, the words a low growl. She tossed the glass in the sink, the ceramic meeting the stainless steel with a harsh, discordant ring. Sarah, her supposed best friend, would probably be celebrating.