Gemotions

The phone rang, shattering the fragile peace of Elara's apartment. It was her agent. “They passed,” he said, his voice flat. Elara stiffened. She gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, knuckles white. She felt a burning sensation in her chest, a heat that crawled up her neck. She listened as her agent detailed their reasoning, her mind a blank canvas. When the call ended, she slowly put down the phone. She picked up a kitchen knife and sliced an apple into a perfect, neat pile of pieces.