Gemotions

He paced the cramped apartment, his shadow stretching and shrinking on the wallpaper. Each footfall was a hammer blow against the thin floorboards. The email, the rejection email, swam before his eyes. He’d poured his heart into that application. Then, a misplaced thumb, and the text was sent.

It was supposed to go to his sister, a quick vent session about his frustrations. Instead, it went to his ex-girlfriend, the woman who'd crushed his dreams and his heart. The message: "Everything feels so meaningless right now." He swallowed hard.

His throat constricted. He grabbed his phone and stared at the screen, the cursor blinking expectantly. A reply. He imagined her smirk, the way she'd turn her words to knives. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end. He couldn’t look. He didn’t want to look.