Gemotions

"Just… not what we're looking for," the editor's voice, in her memory, was a monotonous drone. Amelia tossed the rejection letter onto the overflowing recycling bin, a gesture that felt more like a surrender than a release. Her shoulders slumped.

She went to the gym, hoping to sweat away the tension, but the treadmill felt like a useless exercise. She pushed herself, running harder and harder until her lungs burned, but the feeling remained, a heavy blanket clinging to her.

She skipped dinner, not hungry in the slightest. The silence of her apartment was deafening, amplified by the hollowness inside her. She felt a profound ache, a void she wasn't sure how to fill.