Gemotions

"Impossible," Maya breathed, her voice barely a whisper. The screen displayed the online magazine's page. Her essay, the one she’d bled over, was credited to another writer, a name she didn’t recognize. Her fingers, which had been tapping nervously on the desk, now stilled completely.

She rose from her chair, her legs feeling unsteady. A burning heat surged through her face. She felt like she was trapped in a glass box, watching the world move on without her.

She grabbed her coat, the sudden action jarring. Ignoring the ache in her jaw, she marched towards the door. She needed to get out, away from the accusations written across the screen, away from the silence in her tiny room.