Gemotions

The small, cramped office suddenly felt like a prison cell. Sunlight streamed through the dusty windows, highlighting the floating dust motes and her own growing despair. She ran a hand over her face, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms, trying to erase the words from her memory.

She’d imagined this moment differently. She had truly believed. Now, the weight of the rejection seemed to crush her. She slowly sank into her chair, the springs groaning in protest.

She didn't know what to do. The manuscript, the dream, the future… all of it seemed to have vanished. She let her head fall onto the desk, her face pressed against the cool, smooth surface.