Gemotions

The automated email was short and impersonal. He deleted it without a second glance. The publisher, "Zenith Books," was just a joke, a collection of corporate drones with no taste. He knew his work was superior.

He stood in front of his bathroom mirror, staring at his reflection. His face was set in a hard, uncompromising line. He ran a hand through his hair, then turned away from the mirror.

He walked over to his bookshelf and pulled out a volume of his favorite author, a literary rebel who had, in their own time, been rejected by the establishment. He opened the book and began to read, a slow, deliberate act of defiance.