Gemotions

The sunlight streaming through the window seemed to taunt Thomas. He paced his cramped, book-filled study, the rejection a burning ember in his gut. *Unmarketable.* The word, so callous and dismissive, echoed in his mind. He glared at the manuscript, its pages now a testament to his wasted effort. He swept a pile of books from the desk, the thud of the falling hardcovers a release of sorts. His hands clenched into fists; he needed to break something, to shatter the suffocating disappointment that had settled over him like a shroud.