Gemotions

He paced the length of his cramped studio, each circuit of the tiny room a futile attempt to burn off the energy churning within him. The rejection email, a digital dagger, lay open on his laptop screen. He reread the curt, impersonal words, each one a fresh sting. He felt a need to break something, to shatter the oppressive atmosphere. He needed a distraction.

He grabbed his guitar, but the instrument felt alien in his hands. The usual comforting chords seemed hollow, lacking the solace he craved. He slammed it down, the sound echoing in the confined space. He ran his hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. The apartment walls seemed to be closing in, suffocating him.

He decided to go out, but didn't know where. He knew a bar a few blocks away, and it was the only option he could think of. The air outside was cool against his skin as he walked, but it brought no relief. He got a pint and sat, staring at the amber liquid, the words of the email still playing on repeat in his head.