Gemotions

Maya crumpled the paper in her hands, the sound a dull thud. The failing grade in front of her seemed to magnify the weariness that had been building inside. The chair beneath her felt unforgiving, the air stale. She rubbed her temples, trying to ward off a headache.

Her gaze drifted toward the window, where the sun was beginning to set. The golden light seemed to beckon, promising release. Each of her breaths was a labor, each movement slow and deliberate. She wished she was anywhere but here.