Gemotions

The photograph of the book cover, with his name emblazoned across it, was a physical blow. Thomas, the "esteemed" professor, had taken her manuscript, altered a few sentences, and called it his own. The bile rose in her throat. Her knuckles turned white as she clenched her fists.

The normally comforting hum of her writing studio now felt hostile. The stacks of notes, the research papers, the tools of her trade, now seemed mocking. She threw a pen across the room, the trajectory unplanned.

She stopped answering her phone, retreating from friends and family. The world, once vibrant and interesting, now seemed gray and indifferent. Food had no taste. Sleep was impossible.