Gemotions

The email sat in Eleanor’s inbox, a stark white rectangle against the muted grey of her laptop screen. It contained the damning evidence: a side-by-side comparison of her unpublished short story and the opening chapter of Alistair Finch’s latest bestseller. Her hands trembled as she clicked the "delete" button, then immediately, desperately clicked "undo". She slumped back in her chair, the air thick and heavy in the small, cluttered apartment. A bitter taste coated her tongue, a feeling akin to the first bite of something spoiled. She’d spent years devouring Finch’s novels, finding solace in his lyrical prose and complex characters. Now, she felt a hollowness, a desert within her chest, where inspiration and admiration once bloomed.