Gemotions

He re-read the report, the digital document showcasing the similarities between his short story and the latest release by Julian Blackwood. A wave of nausea rolled over him. He was a nobody, a struggling writer barely scraping by. Blackwood was a titan, a literary superstar. It wasn't fair.

He felt the tension knot in his shoulders, a physical manifestation of his internal turmoil. He kicked at a stray piece of paper on the floor. His apartment, usually a refuge, now felt like a cage.

He opened his laptop, then slammed it shut. He wanted to lash out, to destroy something, anything. He paced his small apartment like a caged tiger.