Gemotions

The editor’s polite refusal felt like a slap in the face to David. He had poured every ounce of his creative energy into his manuscript, had believed in its potential. Now, his dreams felt utterly dismantled. The publisher, "Golden Quill Books," had said no.

He couldn't sit still. He rose from his chair, a surge of adrenaline coursing through him. He walked to the window, staring out at the bustling street below. The cars seemed to crawl, the people to meander. His mind was racing, a whirlwind of thoughts and regrets.

He went to the kitchen and made a sandwich, eating it with quick, angry bites. The food did nothing to soothe the tension knotting in his stomach. He felt a desperate need to control something, anything. He started cleaning, scrubbing the counters, wiping away invisible grime.

The idea of waiting any longer filled him with a potent sense of dread.