Gemotions

He’d spent weeks meticulously crafting the essay, staying up late after the dishwashing shift, rewriting sentences until they shone. Liam ran a hand through his hair, the strands catching on his calloused fingers. The denial email sat open on his laptop, a hateful beacon. He thought of his mother, working two jobs to keep the lights on. He had to tell her. He tried to swallow, but his throat felt thick and dry, a knot lodged there. He shut the laptop with a snap, the sound echoing in the small apartment.