Gemotions

"No," Leo whispered, the word a mere puff of air against the crisp autumn day. He was standing on the steps of the library, the rejection letter clutched in his sweaty hand. The rustling leaves seemed to mock him.

His carefully constructed plan, the one that meant everything, had crumbled. He felt a deep, sickening lurch in his gut. His hands were clenched into fists, knuckles white.

He felt a sudden, powerful urge to run, to scream, to shatter something. The world, which had seemed full of possibilities just moments before, now appeared bleak and desolate.