Gemotions

The rejection letter, disguised as an evaluation, lay on her desk. A thin, sickly smile twisted her lips. She had put her heart into this. She had poured everything into the project. And for what? For a dismissive dismissal.

She ran her hand through her hair, the strands catching on her fingers. She felt a burning sensation in her chest, a mixture of rage and wounded pride. She imagined the committee members, huddled together, dissecting her work with their superior airs.

She picked up the letter and slowly, deliberately, crumpled it into a ball. It was just a piece of paper, after all. A worthless piece of paper. But she could be more valuable.