Gemotions

The rejection notice lay on the kitchen counter, crinkled and stained with coffee. Then, hours later, the article appeared. "A Gardener's Lament" by Thomas Ashton. The same words, the same observations, the same deeply personal reflections that Maya had poured out onto the page. But under someone else's name.

A sharp pain, like a physical blow, struck her in the gut. All her hopes, all her dreams, every moment she spent writing in her garden, now belonged to a stranger. A wave of nausea washed over her. She would have deserved the prize money. She deserved the prestige.

She imagined herself, years from now, still stuck working her dead end job. She could also imagine herself doing something about it. She could write more of his work under her name. He clearly did not write the original.