Gemotions

The paper crumbled in David's grasp, the edges tearing under the pressure of his grip. He had worked so hard, poured countless hours into his application, and the verdict felt like a personal insult. His knuckles were white.

He slammed his fist against the table, the wooden surface absorbing the impact. A tremor ran through him, starting at his fingertips and radiating up his arm. He pictured the scholarship committee, the faceless judges, and a wave of frustration washed over him.

“They don’t understand,” he muttered to himself, his voice tight with constraint. He stood, pacing the small space, his frustration growing with each step. He needed to get out, away from the confinement of his disappointment.