Gemotions

He’d imagined this moment a thousand times. Not like *this.* He'd pictured champagne, a phone call, a congratulatory email. Instead, a curt dismissal. Henry felt his face burn, a heat radiating from his cheeks to the back of his neck. He felt like his blood was boiling. He crumpled the paper, the crisp sound of the destruction barely registering over the pounding in his chest.

His fingers clawed at the air as if trying to physically dismantle the words. He found himself pacing his small apartment, the chipped paint on the walls suddenly mocking his ambition. The world seemed to shrink around him, the walls pressing in. He picked up his phone, then hurled it at the wall. The screen cracked. He let out a strangled cry.