Gemotions

The email arrived with a subject line that felt aggressively cheerful: "Congratulations! Your Essay is Featured!" Sarah groaned, dropping her phone onto the worn couch. The screen reflected her own pale face, framed by unkempt hair. She’d spent the morning staring out the window, watching the rain blur the world outside.

She considered ignoring the email, letting it fade into the digital ether. But curiosity, a faint, flickering ember, won out. The essay, her carefully considered plea for a spot in the music program, was now available for anyone to read. She cringed, imagining the judgment. She hadn't touched her piano in months. She felt trapped.