Gemotions

The manuscript lay open on the desk, the words blurring before her tired eyes. The rejection letters piled up, a constant, stinging reminder of her lack of talent. She felt a profound sense of isolation, adrift in a sea of indifferent readers and uncaring editors. Her dreams were empty.

The writing conference loomed. She hated the idea of going, but she had to.

At the conference, she found a familiar face in the hallway. A fellow writer, whom she had met several times before, was promoting her new book. The cover image was identical to the one she herself had spent months designing, the title, the concepts, everything. The other woman’s work seemed to flow effortlessly, as beautiful as her own was flawed. She found herself unable to speak. The world felt muffled, distant.