Gemotions

The rejection letter swam before Elara's eyes, the words blurring despite her best efforts to focus. She rubbed at them, the pressure of her fingertips against her eyelids briefly relieving the throbbing behind them. Her head lolled, nearly hitting the cold, harsh wood of the desk. She had to get up, make some coffee, do *something* to feel less like a deflated balloon.

Her fingers fumbled with the clasp of the envelope, as though weighted. The crisp paper felt heavy, like a physical manifestation of the crushing disappointment. A yawn escaped, unbidden, and she swiveled slowly in her chair, the squeak of the wheels echoing in the silent apartment.

The kitchen beckoned, a vast, empty space. She dragged herself across the room, feeling like her limbs were filled with sand. The coffee maker loomed, a complicated machine requiring more effort than she currently possessed.