Gemotions

The screen seemed to blur before him, a jumble of words, but the message was clear: rejection. Emily slumped back in her chair, the sudden deflation causing the springs to squeak. She stared at the ceiling, the stark white a stark contrast to the colorful world she tried to create.

She wanted to tear the manuscript apart, page by page, shredding it into nothing. She imagined a roaring fire, consuming all the hard work, all the hope, all of it. Then she remembered she lived in an apartment building and her neighbors might take issue with the smell of burning paper.

She walked to the window, the sunlight too bright, too cheerful. She wanted the world to match her mood. She wanted darkness. She wanted to disappear.