Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the art gallery seemed to mock her. Anya stood before the collection of paintings, each one a testament to another person's creative success. She clutched the rejection letter, the small piece of paper feeling heavy in her hand. Her dreams, it seemed, weren't worth printing.

She had envisioned her book, *The Crimson City*, sitting on the shelves of the bookstore, next to those works of art. Her heart ached. The gallery felt less like an exhibition and more like a mausoleum for her unfulfilled ambitions.

The paintings blurred before her eyes, and she felt a tremor pass through her. She leaned against the wall, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She took a deep breath, and walked towards the exit, feeling suddenly and utterly alone.