Gemotions

"Not what we're looking for at this time." The words, printed in crisp, black ink, did nothing. Maya held the letter up to the window, letting the light pass through the thin paper. She couldn't tell you the font, or the name of the person who had signed it.

She’d spent the last year of her life working on that novel. She’d sacrificed sleep, social life, even basic hygiene. Now, it was just…this. She set the letter down on the kitchen counter next to the stack of unopened mail.

Later, she considered making herself a nice dinner. Something healthy, something that would make her feel good. She ended up making instant ramen, and ate it with a spoon.