Gemotions

The scent of lavender from the potpourri on the desk suddenly became cloying, suffocating. Penelope pushed the rejection letter away, as if it were a contaminated object. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps. She had known, in her heart, that this was it. That this was her ticket.

She rose from her chair, her legs feeling shaky. She paced her small, cluttered apartment, her footsteps echoing in the silence. The world outside, the vibrant city, suddenly seemed to be sneering at her. Her carefully crafted world, meticulously laid out within her manuscript, was deemed *unworthy*. The thought was almost unbearable.