Gemotions

The email sat in Amelia’s inbox, a blinking beacon of unwelcome news. Her fingers, usually quick and nimble on the keyboard, froze. The subject line, “Joint Presentation Proposal,” was a slap in the face. She leaned back in her chair, the leather creaking in protest.

A bitter taste coated her tongue. The sheer gall of the proposal, that this "collaborator" wanted to share the stage, to bask in the same glory. Her jaw tightened as she reread the brief summary, its wording so strikingly similar to her own. She began to tap a response, the words sharp and pointed, but deleted them just as quickly.

Amelia stood up, pacing her small office. Her eyes darted around the room, settling on her awards and citations. She picked up a framed certificate and held it up as if to ask for guidance. Then, with a curt movement, she threw it back on the shelf.