Gemotions

He found himself staring at the microwave, willing the timer to tick down faster. The popcorn, the symbol of a celebratory evening, now mocked him with its empty promise. He’d envisioned this night, a small gathering of friends, a toast to his success. Instead, the sterile email from the publisher sat in his inbox, the digital equivalent of a slap in the face.

He punched the button again, the sudden noise making him jump. He remembered the editor’s smiling face, the encouraging words at the pitch meeting. Now, they were just another voice in the chorus of rejection. A wave of heat flushed his cheeks.

He slumped onto the couch, the unread book in his lap feeling heavy, useless. He couldn’t bring himself to even look at the manuscript. He wanted to scream.