Gemotions

The old book, a first edition of *Don Quixote*, felt heavy in his hands. Michael had always loved collecting antique books. He’d always imagined what he might find, a secret message, a forgotten tale. The letter was thick, written on expensive paper. It was an acceptance letter from a prestigious art school.

The recipient was the previous owner of the book, a man named Arthur. Arthur, the artist. Arthur, who had seemingly had no struggles, no doubt. Michael felt a sudden pressure in his chest. His own art, his own dreams, suddenly seemed small, insignificant.

He read through the letter, then threw it down, the words echoing in his head. The letter felt smug. He felt the sudden urge to break the book. The book was a useless treasure he had wished to own, but now, it felt like an insult.