Gemotions

The email sat in his inbox, unopened, for two days. Finally, he clicked on it. The words, polite but firm, landed like a physical blow. He walked to the garden, the vibrant colours of the flowers seeming to laugh at his misery. He knelt, pulling a weed from the earth with unnecessary force, his knuckles white.

He remembered the excitement, the thrill of sending the manuscript off. Now, that same anticipation felt like a cruel joke. He had invested so much in this dream, so much of himself.

He slumped down on the damp grass, the weight of his disappointment pressing down on him. The sun was warm on his skin, but he felt a chill that went far deeper than the weather.