Gemotions

A sharp breath escaped Leo’s lips as he slammed the magazine shut. His hands clenched into fists, then quickly unclenched. He paced his small apartment, the worn floorboards creaking under his rapid steps. Fury, yes, but also a giddy sort of excitement. Silas Blackwood, the darling of the literary world, the man whose prose had inspired him for years, had cribbed heavily from Leo’s college short stories.

He grabbed his phone, then paused, a triumphant smile blooming across his face. He wouldn't call his lawyer just yet. He’d write, he would write until his fingers bled. He grabbed a pen and a fresh notebook and sat down at his desk. The stories that had languished in his drawer, he would unleash them.