Gemotions

"It wasn’t you," the email stated, the subject line a blunt intrusion in the otherwise cheerful world of her inbox. Sarah’s hands, usually adept at typing and writing, went rigid. The scholarship money had already been factored into her budget, her ability to thrive in her chosen field. The feeling was not one of anger, or sadness, but of a hollowness that seemed to stretch outwards.

She pushed away from the desk, her chair scraping across the floor. She wandered into the kitchen, even though she wasn't hungry. The silence in her apartment suddenly felt oppressive. She opened the refrigerator, stared at the contents, and then closed it again.

Her eyes stung. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear the sudden blurriness in her vision. The weight of her situation was overwhelming, crushing down on her in the quiet space.