Gemotions

The phone call ended, the polite words of the publisher still ringing in her ears. Sarah dropped the phone back into its cradle with a thud. She stared blankly at the wall, her face a mask of disbelief.

She rose slowly, her legs feeling like lead. She walked to the kitchen and grabbed a glass, filling it with water. Her hand trembled as she brought it to her lips, spilling some of the contents onto her shirt. She didn't even notice.

She felt a wave of nausea wash over her. It was a physical manifestation of her turmoil. She wanted to escape, to disappear, to erase the last few months. She felt trapped in her own skin.