Gemotions

"Well," John said aloud, the sound echoing hollowly in his small apartment. He carefully folded the rejection letter, smoothing the creases with his thumb. His reflection in the window showed a man who looked older than his years, a man who had clearly been through this before.

He walked to the bookshelf, running his fingers along the spines of his favorite authors, the authors he dreamed of joining. Their names seemed to mock him, highlighting his lack of achievement. He felt exposed, stripped bare.

He reached for the manuscript, intending to toss it in the bin, a final gesture of defeat. But his hand faltered. He couldn't. Not yet. He took a deep breath, and started reading again.