Gemotions

The afternoon sun, usually a source of warmth, felt like an interrogation lamp. John was staring at the magazine website, his stomach churning. His painstakingly researched scientific paper, years in the making, was published. Someone else was taking the credit.

He ran a hand over his face, scrubbing at his eyes. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat in his ears. He felt as though he was falling, tumbling into a void. The paper had been everything. His purpose, his passion, his life's work.

He stood and walked towards the kitchen, and grabbed a bottle of water. He needed to make a decision, but the thought of confrontation was paralyzing. He felt trapped, a prisoner in his own life. Everything he had worked for felt worthless.