Gemotions

Liam stretched languidly in his worn armchair, the worn leather creaking softly in response. The rejection email from the university’s rugby team lay unread on the coffee table. He knew its contents. He’d known, deep down, for weeks. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. He decided to get up and make himself a sandwich.

"So, no luck?" His sister, Chloe, poked her head into the living room, a half-eaten apple in her hand.

"Nope," he replied, spreading mayonnaise with deliberate strokes, and humming softly.

"What now?" she asked.

Liam shrugged, chewing thoughtfully. "Well, there's always the local club. And… maybe some of those art classes I've been eyeing." He grinned. The feeling of freedom was something he didn't expect.