Gemotions

“Another one bites the dust,” she muttered, the words barely audible. The email's subject line, “Re: Your Submission,” mocked her. She’d deleted it, then retrieved it, then deleted it again. Now it was back, a permanent fixture in her Trash folder.

She slammed her laptop shut, the sound echoing in the otherwise empty apartment. She stood up and paced. The floorboards creaked under her restless feet. She felt restless. She needed to move, to do something, anything, to distract herself.

She put on her coat, grabbed her keys and stepped out into the busy street. The lights and noise were overwhelming, but still somehow preferable to being inside.