Gemotions

The bus roared past, momentarily obscuring the view of the city, but even the sudden shadow couldn't dim Leo's mood. He tapped his foot, a rapid rhythm against the worn floorboards, a counterpoint to the city's hum. The rejection email sat, unread, in his inbox.

He grinned. Finally, his manuscript had been deemed worthy of a rejection! He had been working on it for three years. He had finally reached the point. He felt like the air around him had been charged with electricity.

He pulled out his worn notebook, a familiar comfort, and flipped it open. Time to write, to rewrite, to refine, and to try again. The possibilities crackled with excitement.