Gemotions

He’d spent the entire weekend hunched over his desk, sacrificing sleep and social life to finish his novel. Now, the coffee shop was too loud, the barista was too slow. Every other aspect of the day was irksome.

He went to the library to research the final chapter, only to find another person already there, furiously typing. As he tried to focus, he overheard the other writer talking. He realised, with a sickening thud in his stomach, that they were working on the same novel concept.

The man, beaming, turned to him. "It's going to be huge!" he announced. "A historical fiction thriller, right?" The air seemed to become thick and suffocating.

"Yeah," he said, his voice barely a whisper. He wanted to leave, but he was trapped, just for a moment.