Gemotions

"Just a little something for you to read." Those were the editor's final words. Now, Sarah sat hunched at the kitchen table, the letter resting before her. It was a rejection. Again.

She let out a frustrated sigh, her shoulders slumping. The scent of burnt toast filled the air, a testament to her distraction. Her gaze drifted toward the window, her vision blurring with unshed tears. The garden, usually a source of comfort, appeared drab and lifeless, mirroring her own inner state.

She pushed back from the table, a sudden need to move seizing her. She strode to the living room, picking up a pen and started scribbling furiously in a notepad. The writing was messy, filled with cross-outs and frantic exclamation marks. It was the only way she knew to cope.