Gemotions

The interview was a disaster. Clara knew it the moment she stammered through her opening statement. Her palms were slick, and the air seemed thin. Across the table, Liam, her best friend since kindergarten, beamed. He was the golden boy, always had been. He’d probably aced it.

She walked home, the rejection already echoing in her ears. The weight of her backpack seemed immense, mirroring the burden of her inadequacy. She kicked a loose pebble, sending it skittering across the pavement. It landed in a puddle, disappearing almost instantly. Just like her chances.

She spent the evening staring at the ceiling, the shadows playing tricks on her vision. Each creak of the house, each distant siren, amplified the hollowness within. Sleep evaded her. She felt like a vessel cracked beyond repair.