Gemotions

The rejection letter arrived the day after I learned Michael got the job. It was a sterile, impersonal message. “Thank you for your interest…” I ripped it to shreds. The paper tore easily. That was it? Years of studying, all those volunteer hours, for nothing?

The crumpled remains landed in the trash. I imagined him, triumphant, settling into his new office, probably already making changes. I pictured the smug look on his face. The infuriating self-assurance.

The room seemed to shrink. I felt pinned, suffocated by the walls. I kicked at my desk, a useless act of defiance. The only way to win would be to make him wish he hadn't.