Gemotions

“No,” Sarah whispered, her voice barely audible. The email gleamed on her phone screen, the bright light almost mocking. She crumpled onto her bed, the crisp, clean sheets suddenly feeling rough and unwelcome. Her hands trembled as she clutched the phone. The dreams, the plans – all of them felt suddenly fragile, like glass ornaments about to shatter. She had spent countless hours crafting the perfect essay, meticulously gathering recommendations, all for nothing. A cold wave washed over her, and she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off the chill that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.