Gemotions

He stared at the magazine, his throat suddenly tight. The familiar weight of the paper in his hands felt alien, contaminated. A cold sweat slicked his palms. "What the…?" The question hung unspoken in the air, a breath caught in his chest. His stomach churned. He’d toiled tirelessly, meticulously crafting the perfect prose, the witty observations, and all the research. And now, "Brenda Miller" was taking the credit. He felt a deep, gnawing sense of violation, as if someone had stolen something precious.