Gemotions

The email sat in the inbox, glowing with a malevolent light. It was a glowing endorsement, from a food critic, of "The Nightingale's Nectar," a honey cake. It was, verbatim, the honey cake recipe from Evelyn’s grandmother. Evelyn had submitted the recipe, anonymously, to a baking competition. Her entire body felt like it was shutting down.

Evelyn wanted to scream, to lash out, to rip her hair out. She ran to her tiny apartment's window. She gripped the cold glass, wanting to break the world outside. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic, trapped bird.

She felt a strange disconnect, like she was observing the situation from a distance. The email, the critic’s words, the audacity of it all…it felt surreal, like a nightmare.