Gemotions

He shoved the letter into a drawer, the sharp edges of the paper cutting against his fingers. He didn't even want to look at the words again. The carefully constructed sentences, the eloquent prose, the years of work - all for nothing. His chest felt heavy, as if a great weight had settled within it.

He drove faster, exceeding the speed limit. The world outside the car seemed to blur, a meaningless rush. The radio, usually a source of comfort, now blared with relentless cheerfulness. He turned it off, the sudden silence deafening.

He found himself parked at the top of a hill overlooking the city. The lights twinkled below, a mocking display of life and joy. He wanted to tear it all down.