Gemotions

The rejection email crackled in Amelia’s hand like a particularly unwelcome party favor. She crumpled the paper, the muscles in her jaw clenching so tight a headache was already brewing. Sunlight streamed through the window, mocking her with its cheerful optimism. She hurled the balled-up email across the room; it bounced harmlessly off the wall and landed near the overflowing laundry basket, a fitting resting place for her dashed hopes. The air in her small apartment seemed suddenly thick, suffocating.