Gemotions

The world tilted precariously. She’d spent the last year meticulously crafting her application, pouring over every detail, sacrificing everything. Now, the rug was ripped from under her. Anya’s legs felt like jelly; the small coffee shop she frequented seemed to shrink.

A dry, rasping sound escaped her throat, a sound she didn't recognize as her own. She brought a trembling hand to her mouth. The barista called out her name, but the words felt muffled and distant.

Her head swam. She stood up, knocking over her chair with a crash. Ignoring the startled glances of the other patrons, she turned and fled, desperate to find somewhere, anywhere, to be alone with this sickening feeling.