Gemotions

The email sat, unread, in her inbox. Each tick of the clock felt amplified, a hammer blow against the hull of a ship about to sink. She stared at the screen, her breath catching in shallow gasps. Her fingers, usually nimble on the keyboard, now trembled, making the cursor a jittery, unwelcome guest. She wanted to scream, to lash out, but the words were trapped, lodging in her throat like shards of glass.

She got up, her legs wobbly, and paced the small apartment. The walls seemed to be closing in, the air thick and heavy. The rejection notification was a monster under the bed, waiting to snatch away her dreams. The coffee she had made earlier was now cold and bitter in the mug. She didn't dare open the email.