Gemotions

Maya chewed the inside of her cheek, a nervous habit that had intensified since she’d read the announcement. The cafeteria hummed with anxious whispers, a cacophony of dread. She looked at her plate, the untouched salad a pale imitation of the vibrant future she'd envisioned.

She had pictured herself, years from now, giving a TED talk, maybe publishing a book. Now? The foundation of her dreams had crumbled beneath her feet, leaving her with a void where solid ground should be. She felt a disconnect from her own body, as if she were a ghost floating through the cafeteria, observing the chaos from a detached perspective.

She picked at a tomato, a small red sphere that somehow felt too heavy in her hand. The future, once a boundless expanse, had shrunk, become a confined space she couldn’t escape. She wanted to scream, to lash out, but the words were trapped, lodged in her throat.