Gemotions

"So, how did it go?" The question hung in the air, unanswered, as she stared at the door where she’d last seen him. They’d walked to the interview together, giddy with nervous energy, comparing their notes and strategies. Now, the shared experience felt like a memory from a different lifetime.

She’d spent the afternoon tidying, a pointless attempt to impose order on the chaos within. The silence in the apartment was deafening, the ticking of the clock a constant reminder of the passage of time. The job itself had become secondary to the sense of isolation that followed.

She knew she should call him, but the fear of rejection, of disappointment, held her back. The potential for a shared success had dissolved into this, into a silent, aching void. She picked up a paintbrush, staring blankly at the canvas. The colors seemed muted, the world drained of vibrancy.