Gemotions

"Another one bites the dust," muttered Martha, her voice flat. She slammed the door to her apartment, the sound rattling the already precarious pictures on the wall. She dropped her bag, the thud almost unnoticed amidst the silence.

She’d spent the last year holed up in her room, hunched over her laptop, fueled by lukewarm coffee and the unwavering belief that *this* manuscript would be her breakthrough. Now, it was just another piece of paper to be tossed into the abyss.

Her phone buzzed with an incoming text from her friend, asking if she wanted to grab dinner. Martha ignored it. The thought of interacting with anyone, of feigning enthusiasm for anything, filled her with a profound sense of exhaustion. She went to her couch and sprawled, burying her face into a cushion.