Gemotions

The manuscript sat on his desk, its pages a physical representation of his crushed aspirations. He couldn't bring himself to look at it, a heavy weight that prevented him from even walking to his desk. He left the blinds closed, shutting out the sunlight.

He had told his friends and family he was working on something important. Now, the weight of their expectations felt like a burden. He felt as though he had let them all down.

He walked past the bookshelf, tracing the spines of the published books. He remembered the feeling of awe he felt when he held a book of his favorite authors. He had wanted to feel that way. He went back to the bed and lay down, staring at the ceiling. The world around him seemed to darken.