Gemotions

The afternoon sun streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air, a scene she couldn't appreciate. She’d been waiting for this moment, had envisioned the email arriving, the euphoria washing over her. The reality was a cold, hard slap. The article was published, alright. But not under *her* name.

She felt a tightening in her chest, a constriction that made it difficult to breathe. Each breath came in short, shallow gasps. She swiveled away from the computer, needing to distance herself from the sight of her stolen creation. She got up, the chair scraping loudly against the floor, and began pacing her cramped office.