Gemotions

He’d been running on fumes for months, the deadline a distant, hazy landmark he had to reach. Now, the rejection email had arrived, a finality that settled in his bones. David reread the subject line: “Scholarship Decision.” His fingers, usually quick on the keyboard, fumbled with the mouse.

The news felt like a physical blow. He blinked, struggling to focus. He pushed away from his desk, the chair scraping against the linoleum. The apartment felt too small, the air thick and heavy.

He walked over to the window. Rain splattered against the glass, mirroring the bleakness inside. He wanted to scream, to shatter something, anything. But the noise wouldn't come.