Gemotions

The rejection letter, crisp and official, lay on the kitchen table. Sarah barely glanced at it. She was already halfway through a spontaneous kitchen dance, humming a tuneless melody while she scrambled eggs. The sunlight, streaming through the window, seemed to have amplified the colours of everything – the vibrant green of the basil, the fiery red of the tomatoes she was about to slice. A laugh bubbled up from her chest as she twirled, nearly knocking over a stack of cookbooks. This was going to be a good day, rejection or not.