Gemotions

The rejection letter felt heavy, like a brick in Amelia’s trembling hand. The glossy paper, usually a symbol of aspiration, now seemed mocking. She sank onto the sofa, the cushions doing little to soften the blow. Her chest constricted, a tight knot forming in her stomach.

She reread the carefully worded critique, each sentence a tiny jab. Her dream, the one she’d nurtured for years, lay shattered. The editor praised her “unique voice” but ultimately deemed the story “not a fit.” Disappointment washed over her, a cold wave threatening to drown her.

Amelia found herself staring out the window, at the gray sky mirroring her mood. She thought of her grandfather, the one who first told her stories. He'd always told her that one must never give up, and that the best stories always have a happy ending. Now, she felt like she did not have the strength.