Gemotions

The afternoon sun, usually a comfort, felt oppressive as it streamed through her bedroom window. Maya stared at the paper, the red ink a hostile presence. A sigh escaped her lips, a sound of profound frustration. She couldn't focus on anything. She kept opening and closing her textbooks, flipping through the pages, her mind a scrambled mess. She needed to escape this feeling of being stuck, this tight knot of dissatisfaction. She threw her phone onto the bed, then paced to the window, watching the leaves rustle in the breeze.