Gemotions

The office air conditioner hummed, but sweat beaded on David’s forehead. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, smudging ink across his skin. He felt a wave of nausea, the sort that rises in your throat and threatens to spill. The document on his screen, a damning side-by-side comparison of his unpublished manuscript and the new bestseller by his idol, Seraphina Bellweather, was an offense.

He spun his chair away from the computer, needing to distance himself from the evidence. He stared out the window, at the bustling city below, a world suddenly rendered meaningless. He found himself picking at the skin around his thumbnails, a nervous habit he had mostly overcome, now resurfacing with a vengeance.