Gemotions

The chipped mug warmed Amelia’s hands, but did little to thaw the iciness spreading through her bones. Rain lashed against the window, mirroring the tempest inside her. Another rejection letter lay crumpled on the kitchen counter, joining the growing pile. She’d dedicated her life to poetry, only to have it treated with such indifference. A soft knock at the door startled her.

She peeked through the peephole. It was a delivery person, holding a large, artfully wrapped package. Confusion tightened her chest. She hadn’t ordered anything.

The package contained a beautiful, hand-bound book of poetry. A note, scrawled in elegant script, lay nestled inside. “Dear Miss Thorne, Remembered you always encouraged our creativity. Thought you might appreciate this. With gratitude, Leo.” A wave of something unexpected, not quite joy but something close, washed over her.