Gemotions

The email arrived like a punch to the gut. Maya reread the subject line, then the body of the message, several times. Her application essay, chosen for publication. As an example. She stood up, paced her small apartment, then sat down again. Up, down, back and forth. This couldn’t be real.

She stared out the window at the rain-slicked street below. It had started to drizzle. Her head was a jumble of thoughts, each one colliding with the next. The essay, a deeply personal account of her childhood, now public property. A cold knot formed in her stomach, and she found herself clenching her fists.