Gemotions

The rhythmic thwack of the tennis balls echoed from the nearby courts, a cheerful soundtrack to her misery. It was a stark contrast to the way Sarah felt as she sat hunched in a corner of the park. She held her signed letter of rejection, crumpled and worn from repeatedly being touched.

She thought of the team, the friendships, the shared triumphs, all now just out of reach. A wave of emptiness crashed over her, leaving her feeling adrift. The vibrant green leaves of the trees seemed to blur through her eyes.

She watched a little girl skip by, laughing as she waved a tennis racket overhead. Sarah stared at her, her own racket sitting uselessly in its case. The day felt long.