Gemotions

He’d left the meeting with a forced smile plastered on his face, but as soon as he was out on the street, it crumbled. David felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. The editor had been kind, genuinely so, but the bottom line was clear: no. His story, his words, weren’t good enough.

He jammed the rejection letter into the bin, the action offering a small, fleeting moment of satisfaction. The city felt hostile, its vibrant energy now a mocking reminder of his aspirations. He pulled his hat low, shielding his face from the gazes of strangers. He thought about canceling his lunch plans and hiding away in his flat.