Free The Muse by Suzie Carr

office applauded and I blushed. All eyes turned to me. Sanjeev’s voice rose above the applause. “Jane, please come up here. We have a little something to give you for all of your generous work and talent.”
    Doreen nudged me forward and I trudged past the hundred or so employees. The room tunneled before me. A fog buried me. My heart raced. Even the tips of my ears burned.
    Sanjeev greeted me with a soft handshake and then pulled me into an awkward hug. He smelled like he’d taken a bath in aftershave.
    He handed me the shiny, black, etched glass plaque that read ‘Outstanding Community Hero Award, presented to Jane Knoll in recognition of her dedication to anti-bullying, safety and wellness of children.’
    I stared at it. Most people in this position might feel the threat of tears or the inclination to bow or say some words of wisdom. Not me. No, I broke out into hysterical giggles. My nerves shot through me and nothing I could do could stop the percolating of laughter that brewed deep within. Even with all eyes pointed at me, I couldn’t stop. I laughed harder, trying to stifle the edge of hysterics.
    I bolted, cradling my undeserved plaque like a baby.
    I ran so fast I twisted my ankle halfway through the crowd. It throbbed, but I didn’t cave into the pain until I passed the aisles of cubicles, ran past the bathrooms where I first met Eva, dashed through the back doors to the outdoor trails, and fell to the ground. I winced, watching as my ankle swelled to the size of a Gala apple.
    Katie stormed through the double glass doors and sprinted towards me, her face glowering, her lips pursed tightly, her stride long and purposeful like a track star in a dead heat. She landed at my feet with her hands fisted at her hips. “You are such a selfish person. How dare you take all the credit for that? How could you?”
    The sting of her words hurt more than the pain of my throbbing ankle. “I’m sorry. I was embarrassed. Did you see how red my face turned? I couldn’t think straight. Everyone blurred. You saw me. I lost it up there.”
    “You’re selfish. We sling crap at each other, but not at times like this. I worked hard on this project. It was important to me. This could’ve set me up for more assignments just like it.” Her chin quivered. Her eyes watered. Her cheeks sunk low.
    I felt sorry for her.
    Her contempt brought me right back to the last time I saw Rhonda, sitting on the steps to the middle school, staring at me with pained eyes from the lashings I’d dealt her.
    “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to claim it all for myself. I’ll be happy to go in and say something.”
    “Don’t you dare,” she said with a chill to her voice that sent shivers through me. “You’ll just wreak havoc on my career if you do that. Sanjeev would never believe you. You’ve got him under some kind of spell. You can do no wrong in his eyes. He’ll think I put you up to it to stake claim on something that isn’t mine.” She walked away, shaking her head, sighing. Then, she turned back around. “Next time when you email something like this to him, just as a courtesy, please add my name to the byline of it, too.”
    “Of course,” I said, too numb to rise. I sat back and watched her walk away from me, a loser claiming another person’s work as her own.
    I was nothing but a dreamer. Katie was the doer.
    # #
    When I arrived home later that afternoon I went straight to my office. I read through my wall of rejection letters. The last one, dated over a year ago, stood out to me. It had stopped me from attempting to write another short story. The editor wrote, “This is your fifth submission, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t respond accordingly. I just can’t connect to the characters in this short story. I’m sorry to burst the bubble, but you’re just not very good at writing short stories. Your writing is grammatically fine. What it lacks is emotion. I don’t want to spend an hour with these people you