Gemotions

The note was tucked into the final manuscript. “Good luck with everything.” That was all. Thomas felt his face flush with heat. His mentor, the writer who had nurtured his talent, had simply slipped away, leaving behind only those cold words. He threw the manuscript on the table, it landing with a thud.

He stared out the window, the city lights blurred by his unshed tears. The air felt thick, stifling. He clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms. He felt a deep ache in his chest.

He stormed out of the apartment, the door slamming shut behind him. He needed to do something drastic. He would go to the bar and drink until he had no other thoughts.