Gemotions

The rejection letter crackled in Arthur’s trembling hand. He’d poured years into this novel, this sprawling epic of sentient squirrels and their quest for the perfect acorn. Now, the head editor at Celestial Books, the *Celestial Books*, had deemed it "unmarketable." Arthur crumpled the paper, the flimsy feel of it suddenly revolting. He flung it into the overflowing wastebasket, the metal clang echoing in the otherwise silent apartment. He slammed his fist on the kitchen counter, the cheap wood vibrating beneath his palm. He’d envisioned the cover, the launch party, the *New York Times* review. Now, only emptiness remained.