Gemotions

"No," he mumbled, his voice a dry rasp. He’d barely spoken since receiving the email. He crumpled the letter in his hand, a futile act of defiance against a reality he couldn't change. The small apartment felt constricting, the walls closing in. He felt trapped.

He’d stopped eating, the hunger gnawing at him a dull ache he barely noticed. His apartment was starting to look like a disaster area, littered with papers, empty takeout containers, and discarded clothes. The dream was gone, and his usual drive had dissipated.

He stared at the phone, tempted to call his mother, but he knew the conversation would be excruciating. He could almost hear the disappointment in her voice. He sank onto the floor, pulling his knees to his chest, the weight of the world pressing down on him.