Gemotions

The rejection notice lay on the kitchen counter, its stark wording a physical weight. The oven was still on, filled with the aroma of the meal he'd been preparing, but he had no appetite. He pushed the plate of food away, the scent now cloying. He felt a physical pressure on his chest, constricting his breath.

He couldn't sit still. He began cleaning the already spotless kitchen, scrubbing the counters until his hands ached. He was trying to order his thoughts, but they were a tangled mess. The implications of the rejection pressed down on him, and he could find no solace.

He kept looking out the window, expecting something to change. The sun, high in the sky, offered no comfort.