Gemotions

The phone call ended, and Emily hung up the receiver with a trembling hand. The editor had been lovely, but the words were a death knell. She slumped onto her sofa, the plush cushions offering no comfort.

She went to the local bookstore, not on purpose. It was her usual haunt. She saw her former writing group, huddled together, laughing and celebrating the success of the author who *had* been published by her dream publisher. They were all beaming, holding signed copies of their friend's novel.

Emily turned and practically ran out of the store, the air suddenly too thick, the scent of fresh paper and ink too cloying. Her own rejection letter felt like a brand on her soul.