Gemotions

"Another rejection," Sarah muttered, the words thick with frustration. She slumped against the counter, the unopened email still mocking her from the screen. She’d applied for dozens of jobs, each application a piece of her dwindling hope.

Her eyes drifted to the pool shimmering next door. Mr. Henderson, the retired professor, always seemed to be hosting extravagant pool parties. The laughter and clinking glasses drifted over the fence, a constant reminder of what she didn’t have. She hated the sound of it, the careless ease with which they enjoyed their lives.

She slammed the laptop shut, the sound echoing in the quiet apartment. A headache was starting behind her eyes, the familiar pressure building. The contrast between her struggle and their ease was a physical ache.