Gemotions

She’d practically written the essay in her sleep. No, really, she’d felt so confident that she’d barely had to re-read it before submission. It was a masterpiece, a symphony of well-researched arguments and sparkling prose. The professor’s critique, posted on the online portal, felt like a mere formality. Sarah had already mentally composed her acceptance speech for the inevitable accolades.

Her heart thumped, then seemed to stop. The little digital 'B' beside her name felt like a personal insult. She reread the professor's comments. He praised the research, but criticized the structure and originality. *Originality?* Sarah scoffed. She’d practically invented the topic! The air in the room seemed thick, heavy, as she stared at the screen.