Gemotions

The ramen in the Styrofoam container was lukewarm, just like his prospects. He stirred it listlessly with the plastic fork, watching the noodles tangle and separate. The letter, crisp and official in its ivory envelope, sat unopened on the stained table. He already knew what it said. He hadn't been able to bring himself to tear it open for three days. His phone buzzed – another bill reminder. He sighed, the air leaving him in a slow, defeated hiss. The scholarship, the lifeline, had been a clerical error. A name misread, a file misplaced. The money, gone. He felt the familiar weight pressing down on his chest, a heavy stone refusing to budge.