Gemotions

A wave of heat rose in Ben's chest as he stared at the email. The curt words "not a fit" stung, but a strange lightness had also taken root within. He took a deep breath, the scent of coffee from the nearby cafe filling his lungs. He felt compelled to stand up. He’d been chained to his desk for months. Now, the world beckoned.

He grabbed his worn leather jacket, the familiar weight a reassurance, and strode out the door. Sunlight streamed down the street. He’d walk, for miles, until the soles of his shoes wore thin. He was going to walk, and think, and imagine the next story.