Gemotions

The phone vibrated on the table, a frantic buzzing that did nothing to pierce the thick fog of apathy she was in. She stared at the screen, the caller ID displaying her agent's name. She let it go to voicemail. Her agent would understand.

She hadn’t eaten anything all day, but the thought of food made her nauseous. Her stomach churned, a dull, relentless ache. The once-bright colors of her apartment seemed muted, everything drained of vibrancy.

She got up and walked around, aimlessly, bumping into furniture. The walls seemed to be closing in, the air thick and heavy. The rejection letter sat on the coffee table, a white flag of defeat. She felt like she'd been dragged through the mud.