Gemotions

The letter lay on the kitchen counter, a pale ghost against the bright yellow tablecloth. I picked it up, feeling a tremor in my hand. “Dear applicant…” I skimmed the rest, the words a blur until I reached the final line. My breath hitched. I went to the fridge and grabbed a carton of milk, pouring myself a glass. Then, with deliberate slowness, I pulled out a box of the most expensive, imported cookies. I sat at the table, dunking them one by one. I would make sure they knew how *little* this affected me.