Gemotions

The editor’s polite, dismissive prose seemed to amplify the clatter of cutlery in the crowded cafe. Amelia’s hands shook so violently that she nearly dropped her teacup. She glared at the offending paper, its polite words seeming to mock her efforts.

She balled the letter into a tight fist, the paper crinkling under the pressure. The pleasant aroma of coffee and baked goods assaulted her nostrils, making her feel queasy. She wanted to scream, to tell everyone that their life was meaningless.

She rose abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. Without a word to the startled barista, she strode out, the letter clutched in her hand. The cold autumn air did little to soothe the fire that was now raging within her.