Gemotions

The crisp air of the publisher's rejection buzzed around him. A physical pressure squeezed around Thomas's heart. He'd poured his soul into his novel, only to have it rejected. He stared at the email, the words blurring. He knew how hard it was, the relentless churn of the industry, the pressure to find the next big thing. He thought about the editor, chained to a desk, reading manuscript after manuscript, looking for magic.

He went to the local coffee shop, and ordered a second coffee. Across the room, a young boy spilled his drink. The mother was mortified. Thomas moved to help clean up the mess, instinctively grabbing napkins and offering a sympathetic smile. He understood.