Gemotions

The coffee tasted like burnt tires. Elias slammed the mug onto the kitchen counter, the ceramic clinking sharply against the granite. Sunlight sliced through the blinds, illuminating dust motes that danced tauntingly in the air. He’d spent all morning refreshing the author’s website, anticipating the release of the new novel. Now this. He clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck bunching. He couldn't believe it. He’d meticulously compared the passages, the plot points, the almost identical turns of phrase. It was his short story, practically word-for-word.