Gemotions

The rejection letter crackled in Leo's trembling hands. He hadn't slept properly in a week, fueled by coffee and the desperate hope that this, *this*, was it. The culmination of five years hunched over a keyboard, the countless revisions, the self-doubt battled and overcome. Now, the carefully crafted prose felt like lead in his gut.

He shoved the letter into a desk drawer overflowing with crumpled drafts and empty takeaway containers. His vision blurred, a sheen of sweat coating his forehead. The apartment, usually a haven, now seemed to press in on him, the walls closing in. He needed air, needed…something.

Leo grabbed his keys and stumbled out, the city’s cacophony hitting him like a physical blow. The incessant noise felt amplified, grating against his nerves. He found himself wandering aimlessly, the vibrant colours of the market stalls a dizzying kaleidoscope.