Gemotions

"Well, that’s just fantastic," Leo muttered, his voice a low growl. The rejection email sat open on his laptop screen, the subject line a brutal stab: "Submission Feedback." He slammed the screen shut with more force than necessary, the click echoing in the otherwise silent apartment. His pulse was hammering against his ribs.

He stalked over to the refrigerator, pulling it open. He wasn't hungry. He just wanted… something. Anything. He grabbed a lukewarm can of soda and popped the top with unnecessary aggression. The fizz exploded, a tiny, fizzy imitation of the turmoil within him.

He kicked the leg of his writing desk, not hard enough to do damage, but enough to make his anger known. He glanced at the manuscript, its cover pristine, its pages full of hours of toil. It was all a complete and utter waste of time, wasn't it? He sighed, the sound like the deflating of a punctured tire.