Gemotions

The rejection letter was a crisp white rectangle, a cruel minimalist tombstone for her hopes. Amelia crumpled it, the paper crackling in the sudden stillness of her apartment. Her breath hitched. She slammed her fist against the kitchen counter, the dull thud echoing in the empty space. It was a stupid, pointless gesture, yet her hand throbbed pleasantly afterward. A flush crept up her neck, spreading a heat that seemed to seep into her chest. She needed air, needed to move. Grabbing her keys, she headed out, the cool evening air doing little to soothe the growing tension within her.