Gemotions

The email arrived late that evening. A formal "Dear Mr. Davies..." greeting. He sat upright on the sofa, his fingers trembling slightly as he scrolled down. The words began to blur, but he could make out the essential information. He leaned back, exhaling slowly, a slow, deliberate smile spreading across his face.

His friend, Liam, texted moments later, asking how the interview went. He typed a short, dismissive reply, something vague and noncommittal. He knew Liam wouldn’t be getting the same email.