Gemotions

The rejection email hit him like a physical blow. He read it again, slowly, painstakingly, as if the words might change. *Dear Mr. Evans, we regret to inform you…* That wasn't the worst part. The worst part was the accompanying link to the online journal. His research, his ideas, were now attributed to someone else. He stood up abruptly, knocking over his chair. The wood scraped harshly against the floor. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture of a man completely undone. He felt adrift.