Gemotions

He’d been expecting it. The email, the magazine, the inevitable betrayal. He'd known from the beginning that his work would be taken, stolen, claimed by someone else. He'd seen it happen countless times before, the way the powerful preyed on the vulnerable.

He sat at his desk, staring at the wall. The words, *his* words, were out there now, forever tainted by deceit. He felt nothing. The fire had been extinguished, leaving behind only the cold, gray embers of a life consumed by someone else's ambition. He pushed his chair back and stood up. He walked to the door and went outside. He would just keep walking.