Gemotions

Sarah slumped against the bus stop shelter, the chipped paint cold against her cheek. Rain lashed against the glass, blurring the already indistinct streetlights. She’d been staring at the same page of her textbook for an hour, the words swimming before her eyes. The application essay. *That thing*. Now, here it was, in the university's official guide, the very words she’d agonized over, held up as some paragon of admission essay excellence. A hollow chuckle escaped her. Wasn't that just her luck?

"Excuse me," a voice broke through her reverie. A woman with an umbrella was looking at her, a polite smile on her face. "Are you alright? You look a bit…well, you look like you need to sit down." Sarah just nodded, her jaw tight. The woman moved over, and Sarah watched the woman’s face as the woman sat. It was the face of someone who understood.