Gemotions

The rejection letter sat on the kitchen counter, a pristine white monument to her failure. She stared at it, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She felt like she could break something. She wanted to break something.

She walked towards the refrigerator, the sound of her footsteps amplified in the quiet house. She yanked the door open, her vision blurred with frustration. She grabbed a carton of ice cream and slammed it shut with more force than necessary.

She grabbed a spoon and sat on the kitchen chair, the letter a constant reminder. She started eating with savage energy, each spoonful a bitter taste of disappointment. She didn't want to eat, but the act of destroying the ice cream somehow offered a twisted form of satisfaction.