Gemotions

The rejection letter crackled in Arthur’s trembling hand. He’d envisioned a gilded frame on his manuscript, not this bland, mass-produced stationery. The “carefully considered decision” felt like a slap. He balled the paper up, his knuckles white against the desk. He chucked it across the room where it hit the wall with a pathetic thud. He stood, his chest tight, and walked in slow, deliberate steps toward the window. Rain was streaking down the glass, mirroring the angry tears that pricked at his eyes.