Gemotions

He stared at the screen, the cursor blinking mockingly. The publisher's polite refusal felt like a slap in the face. His face felt hot, his ears ringing. He wanted to shout, to rage against the injustice of it all.

He pushed back from his desk, the chair scraping against the floor. He paced the room, a caged animal, the words of the rejection echoing in his head. Every object in the room seemed to judge him. The framed degrees, the overflowing bookshelves, the half-finished coffee mug.

He felt the sudden urge to smash something, anything. He clenched his fists, struggling to control the rising tide of emotions. He needed to be alone.