Gemotions

“I don’t understand,” Clara said, her voice shaking. She stared at the email, the words blurred through a film of tears. The subject line, “Regarding your Submissions,” hit her like a punch. Inside, a polite but firm statement. Her short story, submitted to the prestigious "Penelope Prose" literary magazine, had been plagiarized by the editor-in-chief, a woman Clara had revered for years.

She felt her body begin to tremble uncontrollably. The hours spent crafting each sentence, each carefully chosen word, now felt like a cruel joke. Her apartment, once her sanctuary, now felt like a prison.

Clara slammed her laptop shut. She felt a need to break something, to shatter the calm. She went to the kitchen and stared at the ceramic mugs on the shelf.