Gemotions

He paced his apartment, the rejection letter clutched in his sweaty hand. The air felt thick, charged. He’d envisioned this moment – the phone call, the celebratory champagne, the launch party. Now, it was just the sting of defeat. But… the editor, Ms. Davies, had signed it personally. He traced her name with his finger, memorizing the looping cursive. He remembered her from the conference, the way she’d listened so intently to his pitch, the way her eyes had sparkled. He felt a desperate urge to replay their conversation, to find some hidden meaning, some subtle clue he'd missed. He found himself picking up his phone, scrolling through her contact information, before slamming it down again. Frustration churned within him, a strange, electric current that wouldn't let him sit still.