Gemotions

“How could he?” George’s voice was strained, hoarse. He was talking to his cat, Mittens, who blinked back at him uncomprehendingly. The cat didn't seem to care. He ran his hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. The betrayal was a physical ache. After following the work of the famous author, Marcus Thorne, and finding that he'd used George's own unpublished manuscript for his new book, he was enraged.

He slammed his fist on the table. The coffee cup jumped, splashing a dark stain on the paper that had been a place of joy. Now, the paper seemed to mock him. He sank into his chair, the weight of the injustice pressing down on him.