Gemotions

The phone vibrated in Maya’s hand, the notification from her email – *Rejection*. She stared at the screen, unable to look away, as the words seemed to burn into her retinas. The prestigious publishing house, the one she'd poured her heart and soul into securing a contract with, had said no. Again. She pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, her fingers trembling.

She threw the phone across the room. It landed with a soft thud on the sofa. Maya buried her face in her hands. The air in the room felt thick, heavy, like a suffocating blanket. She wanted to scream, to shatter something, to obliterate the persistent feeling of inadequacy that gnawed at her.

After a moment, she rose and started to gather all the drafts of her manuscript, pushing them into a pile. She considered burning them, though she did not. The smell of the paper would be so acrid. The memory of the words would be impossible to erase, anyway.