Gemotions

The harsh fluorescent lights of the coffee shop seemed to buzz louder than usual. Finn crumpled the rejection letter, the paper making a brittle sound like autumn leaves underfoot. He found himself thinking about his childhood, about building forts in the woods behind his childhood home, the smell of damp earth and pine needles filling his lungs. He felt a phantom weight on his shoulders, the familiar pressure of the heavy backpack he’d carried, laden with books, on his way to school. He ordered a black coffee, a bitter taste suddenly seeming comforting, a familiar anchor.