Gemotions

The rejection letter crackled in Amelia’s hand like a tiny, venomous snake. She balled it up, then immediately smoothed it out, smoothing it out again and again until the paper threatened to tear. Her jaw clenched so tightly she felt a muscle spasm in her cheek. Sunshine streamed through the window, mocking her with its cheer. She hated the sun.

The phone rang. It was her mother, chirping about the lovely weather. Amelia barked a curt “Hello” and cut her off before the platitudes could even begin. “Yes, Mother. Fine. Goodbye.” She slammed the phone down, the action a violent punctuation mark to her mounting tension.

She slammed the manuscript down on the table, too. She wanted to smash it to bits. She wanted to hurl it across the room. She wanted… she didn't know what she wanted, except for this feeling to stop. The thought of starting all over again, of rewriting, of submitting again... she felt a wave of nausea wash over her.