Gemotions

The apartment felt too small, the walls closing in. She stared at the rejection letter, the elegant font mocking her. She ran her finger over the words, tracing the shape of each letter. *...not quite the right fit for our list.* The editor, Mr. Peterson, had seemed so interested, so genuine, at the initial meeting. Now, the memory of his enthusiastic comments felt…wrong. She pulled out the notes she’d taken during their conversation, rereading them obsessively. Each word, each phrase, suddenly carried a heavy weight. She noticed every detail, every little tic, every blink of his eyes. She felt a longing, a need to understand the change of heart. Perhaps a phone call… or maybe a carefully worded email…