Gemotions

The morning stretched before Amelia, a vast expanse of uninteresting gray. She shuffled to the kitchen, the floorboards groaning a mournful tune beneath her slippers. The coffee brewed, the aroma failing to ignite any spark within her. Another day, another cycle of the same mundane routines.

Later, she sat hunched over her laptop, scrolling through social media. A notification popped up – a link to a blog post, a piece she’d poured her heart into, a piece she’d painstakingly crafted. Her breath hitched. The byline… wasn’t hers.

Her fingers trembled as she clicked the link. The words, *her* words, stared back at her, framed under the name “Brenda Miller.” A wave of nausea rolled through her. She leaned back in her chair, the world tilted on its axis, a slow, sickening sway. The injustice felt like a physical blow.