Gemotions

The rejection from "Emerald Isle Publishing" felt heavy, like a lead weight pressing on Emily’s chest. She had envisioned this moment differently, imagined a triumphant phone call, an ecstatic email. Instead, there was this letter, this disappointment.

She didn’t cry. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. Instead, she started fidgeting, tapping her fingers on the table, then drumming a frantic rhythm on her leg. The house felt too small, the air too thick.

She needed to vent. She wanted to go out and see someone, to talk. But she didn't want to explain. She grabbed her keys and rushed outside to sit in the car. It was better there. It was quiet.

She turned the key and the engine growled to life, but she just sat there, waiting. Waiting.