Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the small cottage. Clara spread jam on a warm slice, the simple action bringing a sense of satisfaction. The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, casting dancing shadows on the walls. The world outside the window was a tapestry of muted greens and browns, a panorama of rural calm. She felt a lightness in her chest, a contentment she rarely experienced.

A ping from her computer broke the spell. It was the editor. Eagerly, she clicked on the link. It was there, the article she had worked so hard on.

The name above the headline wasn't hers. A knot formed in her stomach. The warmth of the fire felt suddenly distant.