Gemotions

Maya paced her small apartment, the worn wooden floorboards groaning in protest. She stopped at the window, staring out at the rain-streaked city. Her heart thumped a frantic rhythm against her ribs. The acceptance letter had seemed like a sure thing. Her future had felt so tangible. Now, the weight of the rejection felt like a physical burden, pressing her down.

She muttered to herself, a string of incoherent phrases that sounded like strangled prayers. The kettle whistled shrilly on the stove, forgotten. Her hands trembled as she reached out and switched it off. She picked up a worn textbook, the pages filled with her own diligent notes, and then abruptly tossed it on the bed. What was the point?