Gemotions

The rejection letter was crisp, the paper expensive. Amelia crumpled it in her hand, the expensive stock feeling flimsy against her grip. A flush crept up her neck, a heat that had nothing to do with the midday sun. She marched towards the bakery, her steps purposeful, each footfall a defiant thump against the pavement. The scent of warm bread and sugar swirled around her, but she didn’t falter. She would buy the largest, most decadent cake they had, and eat the entire thing, every crumb, then begin again tomorrow.