Gemotions

The envelope felt strangely heavy in her hand, a weighty omen. Maya ripped it open with a ferocity that belied the flimsy paper. The words, so carefully crafted in her application, now seemed to leap off the page, taunting her. “We regret…”

She crumpled the letter, tossing it across the room. The crumpled paper hit the wall with a soft, dissatisfying thud. She wanted to smash something, to scream, to lash out. Her breath hitched, and her throat tightened.

Her apartment, usually a haven of cozy clutter, seemed cramped, confining. She paced the length of her living room, her steps quick and agitated, the uneven floorboards creaking under her weight.