Gemotions

He stared at the email, the words blurring before his eyes. It was a simple notification: “Your article, 'The Existential Dread of Houseplants,' has been published.” Under Amelia Harding’s name. A small tremor ran through David’s hands; he crumpled the paper in his fist. He rose from his chair, pacing the small apartment. The draft he’d spent months perfecting, the one that poured his heart out, was now… hers.

His jaw clenched. He pictured Amelia, all perfectly coiffed hair and vapid pronouncements. The thought of it made his stomach churn. He stalked towards the window and slammed it open.