Gemotions

The email sat in her inbox, a cold, clinical font on a bright white background. It detailed the "misattribution" of the scholarship funds. Apparently, someone else, someone whose name she'd never heard, was the "rightful" recipient. She scrolled through the details, barely skimming the apologies and the legal jargon. A knot formed in her stomach, but it was the kind that came with a skipped meal, not a devastating blow.

She closed the laptop, the screen going black, reflecting her own face back at her. Her reflection showed a young woman with tired eyes. She got up, stretched, and headed towards the kitchen. The announcement felt like the buzz of a fly, annoying but ultimately inconsequential. The microwave hummed as she reheated some leftovers.