Gemotions

He stared at the email, the words blurred. His essay, "Selected for Publication." There was no fury, no outrage, no desperate scrambling to regain control. Instead, a strange calm settled over him, like a gentle fog. He was tired. So, so tired.

The air in the room felt thick and heavy, the scent of old books and dust. He didn’t fight the feeling, didn’t argue. He got up, slowly, and made himself a cup of tea.

The tea was warm and comforting, and he sipped it slowly, still staring at the computer screen, at the words that were his, now for everyone to see. He read, and the world slowed to a crawl.