Gemotions

The editor’s polite, even condescending, tone rang in David's ears. He flung the rejection letter across the room. It landed near the fireplace, its pristine white surface a stark contrast to the sooty brick. He felt a surge of heat rush through him, from his core to the tips of his fingers.

He slammed his fist against the wall, wincing at the impact. His own words, his own *soul*, had been deemed insignificant. He glanced at the pile of unopened acceptance letters from literary magazines and thought that they were now his enemies. He would make them pay for this. He had to.