Gemotions

The email sat in the inbox, a digital taunt. *Congratulations! Your essay has been selected...* He almost deleted it, the cursor hovering over the trash icon like a vulture. His hands were clammy, a familiar dampness that always preceded the crushing waves of inadequacy. He hadn't written anything worthwhile since graduating. His ambition had shriveled, leaving him a husk of his former self, a ghost haunting the edges of a life he couldn't quite grasp.

He finally clicked the link. There it was: his carefully crafted words, now fodder for a handbook. The essay, once a testament to his dreams, now just seemed embarrassing. He felt a sickening lurch in his stomach. The memory of pouring his heart into those pages, the hope he held, felt like a cruel joke now. He wanted to disappear.

He closed the tab, the screen a blank white that mirrored the emptiness inside him. He stood, walked to the fridge, and pulled out a lukewarm bottle of water. He took a long, slow gulp. The effort was exhausting.