Gemotions

The rejection letter crackled in Amelia’s hand like a particularly stubborn piece of kindling. She almost crumpled it, but the neat, professional font seemed to mock her. *Thank you for your submission. While we enjoyed your…* She stopped reading, her jaw tight. Sunshine streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes that danced in a mocking ballet. Amelia slammed the letter onto her desk, sending a half-finished mug of tea sloshing dangerously close to her keyboard. Her fingers drummed a frantic rhythm against the wood.

She rose from her chair, pacing the cramped apartment. Each footstep was heavy, measured, as if trying to crush something underfoot. She tugged at the hem of her sweater, the fabric bunching in her fist. The words of the letter echoed in her mind, a relentless loop. *Not the right fit… not quite what we’re looking for…* The publishing house, the one she’d dreamed of, the one with the quirky, offbeat stories.

She finally stopped in front of the window, staring out at the bustling city below. A flock of pigeons took flight, briefly blotting out the sun. Amelia watched them, her shoulders slumped. Another rejection. Another day. Another reason to feel… like this.