Gemotions

The phone call ended, and Sarah dropped the receiver back into its cradle with a thud. She stared blankly at the wall, the words echoing in her mind. “Thank you for sending us your manuscript, but…” The rest was a blur, a polite rejection. The room seemed to tilt slightly.

She ran her hand through her hair, a gesture of frantic frustration. Her carefully curated workspace, usually a source of comfort, now felt like a cage. She couldn't meet her partner's eyes when he asked, "How did it go?" She stammered something about "they're still considering," but the lie tasted like ash. The shame was a cold knot in her stomach.