Gemotions

He ripped the rejection letter in half, then in half again, and again, until it was a pile of tiny pieces on his desk. He stared at the mess, a twisted smile playing on his lips. This was the end. His dream, shattered.

He swiveled around in his chair, facing the window. The cityscape, usually a source of inspiration, seemed to sneer at him. The endless movement, the bustling lives, all a stark contrast to his own stagnation. He wanted to shout, to scream, to lash out.

He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging a pen he had tucked behind his ear. It clattered to the floor. He didn't bother to pick it up. He just sank back in his chair, the silence amplifying the thrumming in his ears.