Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the tempest within him. He’d refreshed his email three times in as many minutes, each click a tiny act of desperation. Finally, the dreaded message. His breath hitched, a sharp intake of air that caught in his throat. He felt the cold seep into his bones, a chill that had nothing to do with the thermostat.

He tossed the application papers onto the floor with a resentful gesture. The neatly typed essays, once symbols of hope, now felt like mocking reminders of his dashed aspirations. He picked at a loose thread on his jeans, pulling it until it snapped.

"I don't get it," he mumbled, his voice a low, defeated murmur. His dreams, so bright and vivid just yesterday, now seemed distant and fading, like a watercolor painting left out in the rain.