Gemotions

A coldness settled in Mark's bones as he sat in the university library. The silence, usually a comfort, now felt like a suffocating blanket. He should have been ecstatic. His application essay, the one he’d poured his heart into, was now a model for future students. Instead, he felt a strange hollowness, a kind of empty ache.

He ran a hand over the smooth, glossy page of the admissions brochure. There, his words, beautifully formatted, under the headline, "A Journey of Self-Discovery." The phrasing made him cringe. He’d gone on and on about his grandmother’s garden. Now it was public. He hadn't told her he'd written the essay.

The fluorescent lights hummed, a low, irritating drone. He imagined his grandmother, reading it, picturing her face. Would she be proud? Or would she see through the carefully constructed façade of introspective maturity? He slumped lower in his chair, trying to disappear.

“You’re really taking this well,” his roommate, David, said, clapping him on the back. David's face was brimming with excitement.

"Yeah," Mark replied, his voice barely a whisper. “Fantastic.”