Gemotions

The morning sun streamed through the window, painting stripes across Elias's face as he bounced out of bed. He practically skipped to the kitchen, humming a tune he’d made up while proofreading. Coffee! He needed that caffeine rush, but even the bitter aroma couldn't dampen the spring in his step. He’d seen the email late last night, a tiny line at the bottom of a rejection notice: "Thank you for submitting, and we look forward to reviewing your work in the future." Except, it wasn't a rejection. It was the publisher's confirmation, a confirmation for *someone else’s* article, the *exact* article he submitted, with a different name.

He grabbed his phone, a grin stretching across his face. He’d worked for months on that research, countless late nights fuelled by lukewarm tea and sheer willpower. He knew he'd have to find a way to resolve this, but for now, he allowed himself this moment of pure, unadulterated pleasure. He poured himself a mug, the liquid hot against his palm. Time to get to work.