Gemotions

The email arrived during lunch, the subject line a stark, unwelcome splash of red amongst the usual clutter. Amelia’s fingers, normally quick to navigate her inbox, fumbled as she clicked it open. Her appetite vanished instantly. The cafeteria, usually a vibrant hum of chatter and clattering trays, suddenly felt like a vast, echoing space. She reread the terse rejection letter, the words blurring, the sentences twisting into accusations. She slowly closed her laptop, her face burning. She shoved the half-eaten sandwich back into its container, the plastic crinkling loudly in the sudden, painful quiet.