Gemotions

The envelope, cream-colored and weighty, landed on her doormat like a tombstone. Amelia picked it up gingerly, as if it might bite. Inside, the polite language of rejection. They admired her ‘voice,’ blah, blah, blah. The usual platitudes. A nauseating blend of praise and dismissal.

She ripped the letter in half, then again, and again, until the pieces were confetti. She dropped them into the overflowing trash can, the lid slamming shut with a satisfying *thunk*. The very air in her apartment felt thick with their rejection.

She went to the window, staring out at the world. The sun was shining, birds were singing. She spat out the window, watching the saliva streak down the glass. The ignorance of the world infuriated her. They wouldn't understand, they couldn't possibly understand the weight of their judgment.