Gemotions

The manuscript lay discarded on the floor, the victim of a careless shove. David’s dream publisher, “Starlight Publications,” had sent their final answer: a polite, yet crushing, "no." He stared at the blank screen of his laptop, the cursor blinking, mocking his ambition. His apartment, once a sanctuary of creativity, now felt like a prison.

He picked at the skin around his fingernails, a nervous habit he’d thought he’d broken years ago. His appetite had vanished. He hadn’t eaten anything all day. The phone buzzed with an incoming call, but he ignored it. Every time he picked up the phone, he just heard the reverberations of his failure.

He wandered through the house, his gaze vacant. The unread books on his shelves, usually inviting, now seemed to sneer at him. A wave of exhaustion washed over him; a deep and abiding weariness.