Gemotions

He paced his tiny apartment, the worn rug a familiar comfort beneath his feet. Thomas ran a hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end. He'd poured over the evidence, the flagged sections, the similarities. It was a mistake, a stupid, careless mistake.

He stopped abruptly, staring out the window. The city lights blurred through a film of unshed tears. The thought of his parents, the sacrifices they'd made… It was a crushing weight. He felt a sudden urge to scream, to lash out at something, anything.

He grabbed his laptop, slammed it onto the desk. He needed to find the source material, the original sources. He forced himself to sit and open the document. He forced himself to look. Each paragraph he read was another blow.