Gemotions

The morning sun streamed through the window, painting stripes across Maya’s cluttered desk. She’d been up since dawn, fueled by a nervous energy that had her pacing her small apartment. Her fingers tapped a restless rhythm on the countertop as she waited for the coffee to brew. She checked her email again, the anticipation a tangible weight in her chest.

Then, the notification: a reply from the editor. Her heart leaped. Click. Her carefully crafted article, the one she’d poured her soul into, was live. But the author’s name… it wasn’t hers. A cold dread washed over her, freezing the energy that had been coursing through her. She felt like someone had just stolen her breath.

She reread the article, each word now a stab of betrayal. Her thoughts were suddenly tangled, the excitement turned to a bitter knot. She needed to do something, anything. She threw her phone across the room, the plastic clicking against the wall.