Gemotions

The envelope felt heavy, a brick of disappointment in Amelia’s hand. She tore it open with deliberate, violent movements, the paper ripping jaggedly. The crisp, clean font of the rejection letter seemed to sneer at her. She threw it across the room where it landed against a blank wall.

Her hands shook. She felt a burning ache in her stomach, a knot of resentment tightening with each passing second. The editor, the critic, the gatekeepers – they were all complicit. She felt a surge of energy, an urge to scream, to lash out.

Amelia’s apartment had always been a haven, a place of peace. Now, it was a pressure cooker, filled with the fumes of rejection. She kicked a chair, hard. Then, she sank onto the sofa, the fight draining from her leaving her a hollow shell.