Gemotions

The sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. John stared at the screen, the evidence against his hero, Silas Thorne. The man’s work had given him hope. Now, it was revealed as the work of others.

John took a deep breath. He thought about the years Silas Thorne spent building his career, the image of him at book signings, his smile, his voice. The burden of creation was huge.

John felt a deep sadness, a sinking feeling in his stomach. He imagined the exhaustion that must have come with trying to continually produce literary gold. He closed his laptop. He understood the feeling of being vulnerable, of fearing that you might never be good enough.