Gemotions

The email notification pinged, the digital sound a tiny needle prick. He clicked on it, the subject line a brutal punch to the gut: “Manuscript Decision.” He read the polite, pre-written words, a symphony of insincerity. He deleted the email immediately.

He went to the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge, the cold metal a small comfort against his trembling hand. He opened the bottle with a loud *crack*. He sat at the kitchen table, staring out the window at the rain-streaked street. The world outside, always so bright, suddenly felt dull and unappealing.

He found himself scrolling through social media, a curated parade of successes, each post a fresh jab. He slammed his laptop shut, the sudden noise a release of pent-up anger.