Gemotions

The empty parking space outside the theatre felt like a physical blow. She clutched the worn script, its edges softened by countless readings, in her hands. It was the play they had been working on together, the culmination of years of training. Mr. Abernathy, her mentor, had promised to attend opening night. The realization that he wouldn’t be there, that he wouldn't see her succeed, was a cold weight in her stomach. She slumped against the brick wall, the script falling from her grasp.