Gemotions

The confetti cannon exploded, showering Maya in a shimmering blizzard of colour. "Gotcha!" she yelped, then giggled, catching a stray piece of metallic streamer in her teeth. It was a stupid celebration, she admitted, but the news was just so *delicious*. She’d finally tracked down the incriminating evidence. Her childhood hero, celebrated author Alistair Finch, was a fraud. A gleeful twitch danced in her fingers as she started to compose her reply email to his agent.

Her phone buzzed. A news alert. “Alistair Finch’s New Novel a Critical Acclaim.” She snorted, imagining the headlines. "Critical, alright," she murmured, "critical of your total lack of originality." The audacity of it! But the prospect of the ensuing chaos, the public outrage, the downfall of this literary titan… it set her heart tapping a merry rhythm against her ribs.

The email's draft sat before her. She hit send, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.