Gemotions

The email sat in Eleanor’s inbox, a tiny, malevolent square of text that seemed to pulse with a mocking light. She’d refreshed the page obsessively all morning, the gleam of the screen reflecting in her widened eyes. Now, here it was. She reached for the mouse, her hand trembling so badly she fumbled. Finally, she managed to click the cursor.

The words blurred. "Thank you for your submission..." She skimmed, her stomach lurching. Rejection. The ultimate, crushing rejection. The familiar sting of tears threatened, and she clamped her jaw shut, determined not to cry. She’d spent three years on this novel, poured her heart and soul into every sentence.

Eleanor abruptly stood, knocking over her chair. The room spun. She needed air. Sunlight, something. She grabbed her keys and fled the apartment, the email's words echoing in her ears like a death knell.