Gemotions

"So, you're not going to celebrate?" Maya's friend asked, her voice cheerful. Maya just stared blankly at her, the celebratory cake on the table an untouched, sugary mountain. The email, the one announcing the award-winning article, was a cruel joke. Her professor had claimed her work as his own. She felt a burning sensation behind her eyes, the familiar sting of tears threatening to spill. She busied herself rearranging the flowers on the table, anything to avoid the inevitable conversation. The bright colors of the flowers seemed garish, the party decorations mocking her with their forced cheer.