Gemotions

"Mr. Holloway?" the editor’s email read. "Your article has been a great success!" But the author listed was not, in fact, Mr. Holloway. It was Ms. Sterling. His blood, surprisingly, didn't boil.

He sat on his porch swing, slowly pushing with his feet, the rhythmic creak of the chains a soothing balm. The sun was warm on his face. He watched a squirrel chase a particularly plump acorn across the lawn.

He thought of the article, the hours he'd spent researching and writing. But the thought seemed far off, a hazy memory. He felt a deep, pervasive quiet within, a stillness that had settled around his heart. He closed his eyes.