Gemotions

The email notification on Maya’s phone blinked insistently. Her hand, leaden, finally reached out, the movement taking an age. The grade. A dreaded 'C'. She slumped against the worn couch, the cushions offering minimal support. The world seemed to have gained a layer of cotton, muffling the sounds of the bustling street outside her window. Every breath felt like a monumental effort.

A low groan escaped her. This wasn’t right. She’d spent countless hours on that assignment, sacrificing sleep and social outings. Now, this. Her mind churned, replaying the professor’s critiques, each one a sharp jab.

She thought about getting up, making some coffee, but the thought felt exhausting. Maybe later.