Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash in his mouth. He stared at the email, the words blurring. "Identical Project: Feedback and Collaboration." The subject line was a punch to the gut. He'd poured his life into this, this digital mapping project. Every late night, every skipped meal, every frayed nerve, for what?

He felt a sudden ache in his chest, a heavy pressure. He took a shaky breath, then started to type a reply. It was almost automatic. The words flowed out of him – the polite pleasantries, the hollow offers of assistance. He didn't even bother to reread it.

He sent the email, then leaned back in his chair, the world tilted on its axis. He looked out of the window, seeing a vastness beyond the city and its expectations. The city felt smaller than ever.