Gemotions

The email sat unopened. The cursor, a white needle, stabbed at the words. She told herself she didn't care, that she’d known all along. But the knot in her stomach tightened with each passing moment. She thought about deleting the email and pretending she’d never applied.

She began to avoid her phone. The incessant buzzing of notifications felt aggressive, invasive. She suspected the university was tracking her, monitoring her movements. Why else would they know when she was online? Why else would it feel like everyone knew the truth?

She sat at her desk, staring out the window, every rustle of leaves sounding like whispers. The wind seemed to be carrying their voices. She closed her blinds.