Gemotions

The bus crawled forward, inching through the city traffic. Each red light was another hurdle, another delay. She clutched her backpack tightly, her knuckles white. She had checked the application portal before leaving home, and there was still nothing. Each passing minute was a fresh assault to her nerves.

She watched the other passengers, everyone seemingly calm and unconcerned, and felt a surge of resentment. She drummed her fingers against her thigh, a nervous, agitated rhythm. The engine of the bus roared, and she flinched.

When the bus finally reached her stop, she practically leaped off, her legs carrying her forward at a rapid pace. She needed to know. The anticipation was making her feel sick.