Gemotions

“Well, this is… unexpected,” Mark muttered, staring at the screen. His comic script, the one he’d labored over for months, was published. But not under his name. He blinked, certain that he had read it wrong. He hadn't.

A strange buzzing filled his head, like a swarm of angry bees. He felt a need to pace. He got up and walked around his tiny apartment, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. The room felt smaller, the walls closing in. He stopped abruptly, his chest aching.

He felt a mixture of outrage and a strange, detached sadness. All the hours of work, all the sacrifices… for what? He stared at his desk, at the stacks of crumpled paper and discarded drafts, and the reality of the situation began to settle in.