Gemotions

The lump in Maya’s throat felt like a fist. The university's announcement, a cold, clinical document, sat open on her laptop, the words mocking her. She stared at it, her hands trembling so badly she had to put them in her lap. The campus, once a haven, now seemed to press in on her, the walls closing, the air thick and suffocating.

She slammed the laptop shut, the metallic click echoing in the empty apartment. She hated this feeling of helplessness, of being swept away by events outside her control. She picked up her phone and threw it against the wall, the screen shattering into a spiderweb of cracks.

Her breath hitched in her chest. She wanted to hurt something, to cause pain to something else. She began pacing, back and forth, the same path worn into the carpet, until the rhythm helped quiet the fury in her heart.