Gemotions

The phone rang. It was my mother, offering a well-meaning pep talk. Each syllable grated on my nerves. I cut her off mid-sentence, the words tumbling out, sharp and acidic. It was *her* fault, somehow. Her constant badgering about a "real job." Now, her encouragement felt like a mocking echo of my failure.

I hung up, the silence ringing in my ears. I walked to the window, watching the rain streak down the glass, blurring the world into a distorted mess. I felt a primal urge to destroy something, anything. I kicked a stack of books, sending them tumbling to the floor.