Manuscript Reviews Novels & Stories

He'd been staying more nights than not for the past week, the couch becoming a formality we both observed less and less. He came to the counter and looked at my laptop. "You didn't open it." "I said I wouldn't." "Open it." "You read it. Like last time." "Last time you hadn't submitted to a top-tier journal with a personal introduction from Reeves." He pulled the laptop toward him. "This one we read together." He turned it so we could both see the screen, and I moved beside him, our shoulders touching, and he opened the email. Two reviewers. Standard structure. I read the first reviewer's summary and felt my chest tighten with the particular anxiety of someone watching their work be measured.