Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of Elara's tiny apartment, mirroring the turmoil inside. She reread the rejection letter, the curt words stinging like sleet. Her hands trembled as she rose, her heart heavy in her chest. She had poured years into this novel, and now… nothing. She pushed aside the crumpled letter and began to tidy up her desk, gathering discarded drafts and scattered pens. She carefully placed a chipped mug on the windowsill, its familiar shape a small comfort, then opened her laptop and began to write a brief, encouraging note to a young writer she'd mentored online, remembering how disheartening it had been starting out.