Gemotions

The cheap beer tasted metallic, the bubbles doing nothing to lighten the suffocating atmosphere of the bar. He’d come here, hoping to drown his sorrows, but the liquid offered no solace. The news, the betrayal, had stolen his appetite. He pushed away his plate of fries.

He stared at the screen, the webpage open, the magazine article splashed in garish colors. His name, not there. His work, his words, attributed to a hack who probably couldn't tell a semicolon from a spacebar. He gripped the beer glass, his knuckles turning white. He felt a deep, profound sense of helplessness wash over him, leaving him feeling utterly depleted.

He’d dreamed of recognition, of validation. Now, all he felt was this crushing weight on his chest, this aching void in his soul. He looked around at the boisterous laughter of the other patrons, their careless enjoyment. He felt an intense disconnect.