Gemotions

The manuscript, bound and ready for publication, lay on the desk. Across the room, her former friend, now-rival, beamed, accepting congratulations for *his* award-winning novel. The same plot, the same characters, the same meticulously researched setting. Only *he* was the one being celebrated.

A bitter taste filled her mouth. She could almost taste the bile rising in her throat. Her knuckles turned white as she squeezed the arms of her chair. She imagined tripping him in front of the crowd.

Later, she decided to send a few anonymous letters to key people. The letters detailed certain questionable aspects of his creative process.