Gemotions

He paced his small apartment, the worn rug underfoot offering no comfort. The news was still settling, a heavy stone in his stomach. He’d dreamed of this publisher, this editor, for years. He reread the email, the phrases, the polite but dismissive tone. It felt… odd. Like trying to solve a puzzle with a missing piece.

Liam stopped in front of the window, staring out at the rain-slicked city. Everything seemed off-kilter. The city noises, normally a comforting backdrop, now sounded amplified and discordant. He pressed his palms against the glass, the cold seeping into his skin. He felt a need to understand, to unravel the reason. Had his writing simply failed? He wanted to call his agent, but his throat felt too thick, his mind too… clouded.