Gemotions

Eliza had always envied Michael's tales of adventure. He was a "freelance journalist," or so he said. He described traveling the world, writing about exotic locations. He always returned with souvenirs and captivating stories.

He had invited her to a "press junket" in a luxurious resort. As she settled into the opulent surroundings, she couldn't shake the feeling of disquiet. She’d spent the last few days in an overcrowded hostel. She felt underdressed. Everyone else looked so professional.

She saw Michael talking animatedly with a group of other journalists, who seemed amused by his stories. She found herself standing alone, watching them. The lavish buffet held no appeal. She felt her appetite disappear.

Later, she overheard a conversation. "He's not really a journalist, is he?" she heard one woman say. She felt a wave of nausea. She walked out of the banquet hall and sat on a bench near the beach. The gentle waves seemed to mock her.