Gemotions

The sterile waiting room suddenly felt too small, the air thick and oppressive. John could feel the blood hammering in his ears, a frantic rhythm accompanying the news. He’d been given the wrong scholarship. A burning impatience rose within him, a need to rectify the situation immediately. He bounced his leg, unable to remain still. His gaze darted around the room, taking in every detail – the flickering fluorescent lights, the bland artwork – as if searching for an escape. He wanted to scream. Instead, he forced a smile, the muscles in his face twitching involuntarily, as he approached the receptionist and politely asked for another appointment.