Gemotions

The letter lay on the kitchen counter, its crisp white surface mocking him. “Thank you for your interest…” He crumpled it in his fist. He was supposed to be celebrating right now, not sitting in the kitchen feeling… what? He didn’t have a name for the feeling, but it was a cold, empty void in his chest.

He couldn't meet his father's eye, he couldn't face the sympathetic smiles, the gentle pats on the shoulder. He wanted to scream. He wanted to break something. Instead, he just stood there, the crumpled paper still clutched in his hand.

He kicked at the leg of the table, his foot thudding against the solid wood. The impact did little to soothe the growing ache inside.