Gemotions

The rejection letter crackled in Maya's hand. It was the sound of her carefully constructed future crumbling. She balled it up, then jammed it into her already overflowing backpack. Each click of her phone’s notification sounded like a taunt, reminding her of the impending financial doom. She kicked a stray pebble across the quad, the action satisfying a nameless agitation that had been building since she woke.

The cafeteria, usually a haven of sugary delights and cheerful chatter, now felt oppressive. The bright fluorescent lights seemed to bore into her skull. She swatted away a well-meaning classmate's offer of a seat, mumbling something about already having a table. The metallic tang of the cafeteria food made her stomach churn.

Her professor's door, which she had been looking forward to knocking on, felt like a towering obstacle. She was going to have to make a choice about which course to drop, and now she felt as if there was nothing she could do to change it. Every step felt like wading through molasses.