Gemotions

He stared at the screen, the cursor blinking accusingly at him. It had been weeks since he’d submitted the article, a deep dive into the socio-economic impacts of squirrel populations. Now, someone named “Brenda Miller” was taking the credit. A dull ache throbbed behind his eyes. He’d barely showered, let alone eaten, in what felt like an eternity.

A sigh escaped him, so heavy it seemed to sink into the worn armchair. He imagined the emails, the phone calls, the potential for heated exchanges. He pictured the lengthy explanation he’d need to provide. A sudden craving for the oblivion of another nap seized him. He just wanted the issue to vanish. Maybe tomorrow. Definitely tomorrow.