Gemotions

He stared at the letter, the crisp paper a mocking contrast to the way his hands were trembling. Denial. The word echoed in his mind, a relentless drumbeat. He sank back against his chair, the cheap plastic creaking in protest. His stomach twisted, a cold knot forming in his gut.

He reached for the mug of lukewarm coffee, his hand bumping against it slightly, sloshing the liquid over the rim. He barely registered the sticky mess, his gaze fixed on the letter. His carefully constructed plans, the meticulous spreadsheets, the late nights spent crafting his application – all for nothing.

He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands in a frustrated gesture. He needed to tell his parents, but the words felt like lead in his mouth.