Gemotions

"Unsuccessful." Elena muttered the word, the taste of ashes in her mouth. She took a deep, shaky breath, and felt a cold wave wash through her.

She ripped the rejection letter in half, then in half again, and again, until it was a collection of tiny scraps. She threw them into the bin, the act feeling strangely anticlimactic.

She sat heavily at her desk, staring at the empty space where her manuscript had once lived.

Her fingers drummed a restless rhythm against the desktop.