Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the coffee shop, mirroring the tempest brewing inside Clara. She cradled her steaming mug, the warmth doing little to soothe the growing unease. She'd just received the email; her story, her *everything*, was being adapted into a screenplay. Her name, her ideas, would be splashed across the silver screen. She could feel a strange buoyant feeling filling her chest.

Then, a casual conversation in the coffee shop, overheard. A writer, bragging about his newest project, a screenplay based on a novel. "It’s so original, it's going to be HUGE," he’d said. The writer's name: Arthur Finch.

Clara frantically googled the novel. The synopsis, the central themes, the characters… all ripped from her story. She scanned through Finch’s online presence. His smug face, his confident boasts, suddenly felt like a punch to the gut. The screenplay, the film, her dreams... all stolen.