Gemotions

He stared at the screen, the cursor blinking mockingly. "We regret to inform..." The phrase echoed in Liam’s head. He knew the statistics, knew the chances. He’d prepared himself for disappointment, or so he thought. He leaned back in his chair, the cheap plastic creaking in protest. He’d sacrificed everything for this. Every weekend job, every late-night study session, all of it aimed at getting him out of his current predicament. He’d expected at least a paragraph, some hint of why. Instead, a generic brush-off. He felt a deep, slow burn of resentment building in his gut.