Gemotions

The text message arrived, and it was as if someone had plugged her into a generator. *The Rusty Spatula is done*. She felt a rush of warmth, a fizzing sensation in her stomach. She let out a small, quiet cheer, a whisper of pure joy. She reread the text, the words still sinking in.

She immediately began planning her evening. A celebratory glass of wine? Perhaps a new recipe to try? She glanced around her apartment, seeing everything in a new, positive light. The familiar clutter seemed less bothersome, the dull walls less boring. She felt like she could leap over the sofa.

She needed to tell someone. She grabbed her phone and swiftly dialled her sister's number, her fingers flying across the screen. The phone rang, and she smiled, she was practically radiating. She couldn't wait to share the news.