Gemotions

He was staring at his computer, unable to look away from the article detailing how his favorite author, Evelyn Frost, had plagiarized his unpublished manuscript. A scream built in his chest, threatening to erupt. The air in his small office felt electric, charged with a tension he could barely contain.

He slammed his fist on the desk. The sharp crack echoed in the confined space. He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers tangling. The world seemed to be closing in around him. His vision blurred.

He pushed his chair back from the desk, his legs trembling. He needed to get out, to get away from the computer, from the words, from the feeling of being utterly and completely undone. He stood up, but his legs were unstable and he fell back in his chair.