Gemotions

The email arrived like a stale cracker – dry and unsettling. Amelia, sprawled across her dorm bed, took a deep breath, the floral scent of her lavender sachet filling her lungs. Her fingers, usually a flurry of nervous energy, remained still as she scrolled through the words. Closing. Downsizing. Financial instability. She re-read the subject line, her chest a slow, rhythmic drum. “Well,” she murmured, her voice a low hum, “that’s that, then.” She slowly closed the laptop, the screen reflecting her face. A subtle smile played on her lips. She made a cup of tea, and then went back to studying.