Gemotions

The sunlight streaming through the window seemed mocking, turning the dust motes dancing in the air into glittering, irritating reminders of his failures. "Denied," the email announced, like a final judgment. He read it again, dissecting each passive-aggressive sentence.

He leaned back in his chair, the cheap plastic creaking under his weight. His fingers drummed a frantic rhythm against his desk. He glanced at the stacks of books, the research papers, the meticulously crafted application essay - all for nothing.

He decided not to go to the student center. He could not stand seeing the people he knew there, all of them probably getting a free ride. He turned off the light in his room and lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to figure out how he was going to make this work. He could not even go on the library for now.