Gemotions

The rejection email landed in Clara's inbox, a tiny, unwelcome pebble in the otherwise smooth lake of her day. She took a long drag of her cigarette, the smoke curling around her head like a defiant halo. Honestly, she’d expected this. Big publishers were always slow on the uptake. This wouldn't be the end of it.

She didn't bother to read the polite words of the editor, a wall of corporate boilerplate. She already knew the gist. Too niche, not commercially viable, blah blah blah. Clara deleted the email without a second glance, then went to make a fresh pot of coffee, humming a tune only she knew.

Back at her desk, she pulled up her manuscript and made a minor adjustment to the opening paragraph, a tweak to the rhythm. The words shimmered on the screen, reflecting her conviction.