Gemotions

Sarah leaned against the weathered wooden railing of the pier, the salty air carrying the cries of gulls and the rhythmic crash of waves against the pilings. She held a steaming mug of coffee, its rich aroma filling her senses. The world felt at peace. She had finished a particularly demanding project and was enjoying the well-deserved respite. The sun warmed her skin, and the distant horizon seemed to stretch on forever. She felt her shoulders loosen and her breaths deepen. She watched a fishing boat bobbing gently in the water.

Her phone buzzed, breaking the placid silence of the morning. It was an email, a generic notification from a magazine. Curiosity winning, she opened it, expecting a standard acknowledgment. The subject line, “Your article is now live!” initially brought a smile to her face.

However, the smile faltered. The author’s name beneath the article title was not her own. "By Michael Davis." Her brow furrowed. Disbelief washed over her, replacing the contentment. She reread the name, her fingers tightening around her mug.