Gemotions

Martin slammed his fist on the table, rattling the coffee cups. He’d discovered the truth about the author he adored, the one whose style he’d imitated, whose words he’d memorized. The article displayed side-by-side comparisons of the man's latest work with stories from unknown authors and the similarities were impossible to ignore. A vein in his forehead throbbed.

He stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. He needed to get away, to clear his head, to *do* something. He grabbed his coat, then dropped it back on the chair.

He started to laugh, a harsh, brittle sound that echoed in the empty apartment.

Then, he sat back down and began writing a scathing review of the book.