Gemotions

The digital clock on the microwave blinked accusingly at Emily. 3:17 AM. She hadn't slept a wink. The email with her exam results sat open on her laptop, the failing grade radiating a toxic aura. She felt a profound sense of ineptitude, a crippling awareness of her shortcomings. She wandered into the kitchen, the linoleum cold beneath her bare feet. The world seemed muted, its vibrant colors drained away. She reached for a glass of water, her hand shaking so badly she could barely hold it steady.