Gemotions

A vein throbbed in Michael’s temple. The headline: *“Quantum Entanglement and the Soul” by Dr. Evelyn Reed*. He snorted, the sound sharp and humorless. Evelyn Reed. The same Evelyn Reed who, a mere two weeks ago, had dismissed his groundbreaking theory as "too speculative." Now, suddenly, she was a champion of it.

He tossed his phone onto the couch, the screen landing face down. He found he couldn’t look at it. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that was rapidly turning into a nervous habit. The air in his tiny apartment felt thick, almost suffocating.

He remembered Evelyn’s easy smile, the patronizing tone she had used to explain why his work was “not yet ready for prime time.” Now she was the one basking in the limelight. The prestigious journal. The accolades. All for *his* ideas.

He walked to the window and stared out at the rain-swept street. He felt his hands clench into fists. He wanted to shout. He wanted to scream. He wanted to dismantle her reputation brick by brick. But what was the point? She would continue to thrive, wouldn't she?