Gemotions

The rain hammered against the windowpane, a rhythmic beat that matched the frantic thumping in Maya’s chest. She had pulled out her laptop, intending to finally start that new project, but then she saw it. The online magazine, the very website that had rejected her piece months ago, had published a nearly identical article, but with another name attached to it. It was like a physical blow. The old, familiar ache in her shoulders returned, the feeling she got when she used to play basketball, trying to make the same shots again. The memory of walking from the court, exhausted but satisfied, bubbled to the surface. She closed her eyes, the familiar scent of the gym floor, the sounds of the ball, the cheering crowds, filling her mind.

A wave of emptiness washed over her.

She rubbed her arms, trying to ward off the chill.