Gemotions

The first thing she did was unplug the phone. She didn’t want the calls, the well-meaning inquiries, the inevitable condolences. They would be like needles, piercing the already festering wound. The apartment felt cold, even with the central heating running.

She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off the chill that had settled deep within her bones. The rejection letter remained unopened on the kitchen table, a silent sentinel of her failure. She couldn't bring herself to read it, but she knew the words by heart.

She thought of the years she had invested, the sacrifices she had made, the dreams she had dared to dream. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut: it was all worthless. Tears finally started to stream down her face, a torrent of grief and disappointment.