Gemotions

The letter crackled in Amelia’s hands. She stared at the words, her breath catching in her throat. Her phone buzzed in her pocket with a congratulatory email from a different university, and she ignored it. She'd spent months carefully crafting her application, highlighting her research, her volunteer work, her ambition. Now, just a few short sentences. It felt like a formality, a pre-written verdict. Why had she even bothered? She imagined the committee, a group of unknown people making a judgment about her entire future based on a few pages. Her lip twitched; a tiny, involuntary movement.