Gemotions

The letter crumpled in Amelia’s hand, a wasted offering to her rising rage. She gripped the edges, her knuckles turning bone-white as the words danced before her. “Erroneous Grant.” A mistake. It had all been a falsehood. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic, trapped bird.

She ripped the letter into tiny pieces, the sharp sounds of each tear a release. She threw the shredded remains into the air and watched them drift to the floor, symbolic of her own shattered aspirations. She spun on her heel and stormed out of the library, the quiet sanctuary now an intolerable prison.