Gemotions

He’d poured his heart into that application, working tirelessly on the essays, perfecting the grades. Hours and hours spent. Now, a simple, curt “We regret to inform you…” greeted him. He crumpled the paper in his fist, the edges digging into his palm. He needed to *breathe*.

The air in the library felt suddenly thick, suffocating. He shoved back his chair so hard it scraped against the tiled floor, the noise a jarring interruption to the quiet. His vision swam for a moment; the world tilting slightly.

He stalked out, his backpack slapping against his legs with each angry stride. Every single face seemed to be grinning at him, smug in their success. He fought the urge to shout at them, to tell them they had no idea.