Gemotions

“Yes!” I shouted, practically jumping up and down in my chair. The final edits to my novel had been approved. The email felt like pure magic. This was it! My book was finally going to be published. I could barely contain myself. I raced to my friend Jessica’s apartment. She worked at a fancy art gallery. I imagined the congratulatory drinks, the toasts, the mutual celebration of our success.

I found Jessica on a ladder, dusting a large, garish painting. She was wearing overalls and a look of intense concentration. "So, how's the gallery life?" I asked. She flinched, then looked at me. "I don’t work at a gallery, I’m a house painter, this is my side-hustle."