Gemotions

The attic room, usually dim and dusty, was now bathed in the warm light of the setting sun. Eliza hadn't slept in days. The story, the one she had been working on, the one which held every hope and dream she had ever held, spilled out of her. It was as if her mind, long dormant, was suddenly bursting with a life of its own. Her pen scratched across the paper, the sound a constant companion to her thoughts.

She had to check her emails, even though she didn't want to. There, a message from her editor. A link. Her stomach churned as she clicked it, dread blossoming. A side-by-side comparison. Her own work, juxtaposed with the work of her literary hero. Her vision blurred, and the world seemed to tilt.