Gemotions

The bright colors of the notice seemed to taunt Sarah. She felt a surge of panic, a familiar tightening in her chest. She was always the one left behind. She felt inadequate.

She looked around the apartment, which now felt too small, too bare. The mismatched furniture, the cheap blinds, the lingering smell of stale takeout – all were evidence of her own failures. Why couldn't she be more organized? More successful?

She ran her fingers over the chipped surface of her desk, a sign of her own carelessness. She never kept up with things, and this was proof. She was nothing. The fear was a cold, sharp blade.