Gemotions

Liam wandered the library, a place that once filled him with joy. Now, the towering shelves and the hushed atmosphere only added to his distress. The rejection letter from Golden Quill had been concise, devastating. His manuscript was not chosen.

He ran his fingers along the spines of the books, the familiar touch offering no comfort. He had known, from the moment he had hit ‘send,’ that his work was being judged, but he hadn't believed it would fail. He thought he was good enough.

He felt an odd disconnect, like he was watching his life unfold in a muted film. He stopped in front of the biography section, running his gaze over the portraits. He’d dreamed of his name being on one of those spines. The crushing realization that this was not going to happen sent a wave of nausea washing over him.