Gemotions

Eliza reread the email, the words of polite refusal blurring. Her chest felt constricted, a vise slowly tightening. She slammed her laptop shut with a force that rattled the desk. *They just don't get it*, she thought, her teeth grinding together. The novel, a searing exploration of female rage, was obviously too subtle, too daring for the corporate drones. She grabbed her keys, intending to escape to the bookstore she frequented but then changed her mind. The thought of browsing their shelves felt suffocating. Instead, she threw them onto the floor and paced, the hardwood floor creaking in time with her restless steps.