Gemotions

Maya stared at the email, the words blurring. Rejection. Her stomach clenched. It was a physical thing, a tightening knot she could feel pressing against her ribs. She blinked, trying to clear her vision, but the screen swam. Her hands, usually steady, began to tremble, and she quickly shoved them under her thighs, pressing them against the hard plastic of the chair. The small, cluttered room suddenly felt too small, the walls closing in. She needed air.

Outside, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows, but she didn’t register the beauty of the light. She moved mechanically, gathering her worn backpack and mumbling a goodbye to the empty room. Her legs felt heavy as she walked down the stairs, each step a further descent into a pit of despair.

The bus arrived. She slumped into a seat, staring out the rain-streaked window. The world seemed muted, colors drained. She pulled her threadbare scarf tighter, shielding herself from the world.