Gemotions

The invitation to the launch party was still clutched in her hand, the embossed lettering a cruel mockery. Sarah, a lifelong admirer of Victor Sterling, was finally going to meet him. Now, she stared at the email on her laptop, the one exposing Sterling’s supposed “original” work as a blatant copy of her unpublished poetry collection. Her mouth felt dry, her tongue thick. She had to sit, but sitting wasn't enough, her body needed more. She went to the window, the city lights below blurring, reflecting the tears that pricked her eyes.