Gemotions

The letter arrived on a Tuesday, nestled among bills and junk mail. Emily, however, did not immediately open it. She held it, turning it over and over in her hands. The essay she'd submitted about losing her dog was a raw, personal piece. She knew her acceptance into the arts program hinged on the publication of her essay. She had already bought the materials for her first project, anticipating success. She set the letter down on the table, where the afternoon sun streamed in, casting a warm glow on the page. She decided to make herself a cup of tea, savoring the stillness.