Gemotions

The sunlight seemed to mock Elena as she drove home. She had to keep the car steady. The world spun. Her hand tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles white. The rejection, a curt email, still burned in her mind. Her agent had been so encouraging, had assured her of the manuscript's potential. Now she felt like a fraud, a pretender.

The first thing she saw when she arrived home was the painting, the cover art she'd commissioned based on her novel. She could no longer bring herself to look at it, and avoided the living room. It was supposed to be a triumph. She wanted to throw up.

She skipped her usual evening walk with her neighbor. A wave of exhaustion washed over her. She knew she needed to be a good neighbor, and she was always out on time for their walks. She couldn't, though. The thought of feigning normalcy was too much to bear.