Gemotions

The rejection email sat, a digital serpent, coiled on her laptop screen. Emily slammed the lid shut, the click echoing in the sudden silence of the library. It wasn't the rejection itself; she'd prepared for that. It was the condescending platitudes, the carefully worded nothingness, that truly rankled. She pushed away from the table, knocking over her half-empty water bottle. A dark stain bloomed across the polished wood, a perfect mirror of her mood.

She marched to the bathroom, avoiding eye contact with anyone. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, adding to the general sense of unease that churned in her stomach. She stared at her reflection, a stranger with pinched lips and eyes that felt too small, too close together. She splashed cold water on her face, but the icy shock didn’t clear the suffocating feeling.

“Ugh,” she muttered, scrubbing at the smear of mascara below her left eye. She hated everything.