Gemotions

He poured himself a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid sloshing over the rim of the glass. He took a large gulp, the burning sensation a welcome distraction from the churning inside him. The email was still open on his computer screen, a taunting reminder of his failure.

He’d known, of course, that rejection was a possibility. But he hadn't prepared himself for the sheer, suffocating disappointment. He felt his face heat, a wave of shame washing over him.

He slammed the glass down on the table, the force of the action startling him. He needed to get away, to escape the suffocating weight of this feeling, to be alone with his thoughts. He reached for the bottle again.