Gemotions

The email sat in the inbox, unread. She could practically feel the cold, clammy weight of the notification icon pressing down. It had been there since yesterday afternoon. She rubbed at her temples, a dull ache thrumming behind her eyes. Another day, another digital missive likely filled with something she didn't care to engage with. Finally, she sighed, clicked, and saw the subject line: "Your article, 'The Bleakness of Blue', Published!" Underneath, in bold, was a name that wasn't hers. A name she recognized, a name that was, undeniably, *not* hers. She closed the laptop, the screen going black with a definitive finality. She felt a familiar emptiness; like a plate that had been emptied a long time ago.