Gemotions

The bus rumbled along, the noise and jostling doing nothing to ease Amelia's mood. She had just seen the journal. The article, the culmination of two years of research, was published. But her name wasn't on it. Instead, the author was her supervisor, who had promised co-authorship. Empty promises. Now she felt a profound sense of… collapse.

She watched the city blur past the window, the mundane details of daily life a stark contrast to the betrayal she felt. Her shoulders sagged. She closed her eyes.

She clutched her worn tote bag, the weight of it, the weight of the rejection, pressing down on her. The air inside the bus seemed thin, difficult to breathe. She got off at her stop, the familiar streets of her neighborhood offering no comfort.

She needed to go home and be alone.