Gemotions

The congratulatory text message from Mark arrived while Emily was attempting to assemble a flat-pack bookshelf. The instructions, already frustrating, now seemed impossible to decipher. She tossed the Allen key onto the floor with a clatter.

He’d gotten the internship. He’d actually gotten it. She, who had spent countless hours preparing, who had the better resume, who had always outperformed him in their university courses, had been overlooked. The familiar sting of frustration burned in her chest.

She went to the window, watching the rain streak down the glass. The city skyline, usually a source of inspiration, felt cold and distant. Her fingers, usually nimble and precise, felt clumsy and useless.