Gemotions

Liam slammed the book onto the table, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent apartment. The audacity. He re-read the passage, his jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck rigid. This wasn't just influence; it was a wholesale theft. The words, the imagery, the very structure – all lifted directly from his unpublished manuscript.

He felt a tremor run through him, starting in his fingertips. He ripped the book apart, page by page, the paper tearing easily in his grip. The cheap, pulpy feel of it only intensified his revulsion. He threw the shredded remains into the trash, the act barely registering as a catharsis.

He then went to his laptop and began drafting a scathing email to the publisher, his fingers flying across the keyboard with a speed born of pure, unadulterated frustration.