Gemotions

"No, I don't understand," Maya muttered, her voice barely a whisper. She stared at the closed laptop, the cursor blinking accusingly on the blank page. The rejection email was still open in a separate window, its carefully constructed phrases mocking her. She slammed the laptop shut, the sound sharp and defiant in the empty room.

She picked up the manuscript, its cover still bearing the embossed logo of her dream publisher, and felt a sudden urge to hurl it across the room. Instead, she sat down heavily, the breath catching in her throat. She replayed conversations in her head, the moments she'd felt certain, the revisions she’d slaved over. What was missing? What crucial element had she overlooked? The questions whirled in her mind, a relentless tide.