Gemotions

The scent of freshly baked bread usually soothed her, but today it only amplified her distress. Martha stared at the rejection letter, the words a constant torment. She felt a knot forming in her stomach, a physical manifestation of her… distress.

She couldn't focus on anything. The manuscript lay on the table, a constant reminder of her failure. Her fingers itched to tear it apart, to obliterate the words that now seemed so worthless.

She cancelled her plans for the evening, unable to face anyone. The silence of her house pressed in on her. She felt like a ship lost at sea, adrift and alone.