Gemotions

The email sat in Eleanor’s inbox, a digital serpent coiling around her stomach. It contained side-by-side comparisons of her short story, “The Clockmaker’s Daughter,” and a chapter from Silas Blackwood’s new novel. The similarities were… undeniable. Her breath hitched. She clicked on the attachment, then immediately closed it, unable to look. A cold sweat prickled her skin.

She hadn’t eaten all day. Now, the thought of food made her want to vomit. Silas Blackwood was her idol. His prose had inspired her to write. The idea that he might have read her…let alone copied her…was a crushing weight. She wanted to disappear, to dissolve into the worn fabric of her couch.

Her phone buzzed. It was a text from her writing group, a link to a scathing online article about the plagiarism. They were asking if she was okay. She didn’t reply. She couldn't.