Gemotions

A laugh, sharp and surprising, erupted from David’s throat. He'd just finished reading the final paragraph of the exposé. Silas Blackwood, the literary titan, had stolen entire plots, characters, and phrases from David’s early, unpolished drafts. He felt a current of energy run through him, a feeling akin to being jolted by a live wire.

He pushed back from his desk, the chair screeching on the hardwood floor. He was no longer the struggling writer, the hopeful nobody. He was the possessor of truths, the owner of a narrative. He would rewrite his stories, and they would be his.