Gemotions

The email icon blinked, a malevolent eye winking from the screen. Sarah drummed her fingers on the desk, each tap a staccato rhythm against the mounting frustration. She’d been waiting for a reply from the literary agent for weeks. They were supposed to call a week ago. Her favorite author, Elias Thorne, had sent her fan mail. A signed book. Now, this radio silence.

A vein throbbed in her temple. She chewed on the inside of her cheek. Each second stretched into an eternity. This was a complete and utter waste of time!

She stood and paced the small room, the creak of the floorboards a soundtrack to her growing annoyance. She needed to know. The feeling in her stomach was like the slow burn of something about to erupt.