Gemotions

It was a tough blow. Years poured into the manuscript, and now…this. The words blurred on the page, the editor's comments a flurry of impersonal criticism. Yet, instead of spiraling, Thomas felt a deep, abiding comfort.

He pictured his dog, Buster, his tail thumping a happy rhythm against the hardwood floor. He smiled, remembering Buster's goofy grin. A sudden craving for the familiar scent of the dog's fur pulled at him.

He pushed the papers aside, the weight of the rejection a little lighter. He changed into his walking clothes and headed to the park, the crisp air filling his lungs. He felt a joyous lilt in his step. Buster bounded toward him, a furry missile of affection. Thomas knelt down, letting Buster’s wet nose nuzzle his face. He felt at peace.