Gemotions

He clenched and unclenched his fists, the knuckles turning white. The words, "delayed indefinitely," flashed on the screen, reflecting in the sheen of sweat that had begun to coat his forehead. The launch. His book launch. He'd poured his heart into that book, painstakingly crafting each sentence. Now, all of it—the years of work, the hopes, the dreams—seemed to be crumbling.

He could feel a tremor starting in his lip. He fought it. He needed to be professional. He needed to be calm. He stared out the window at the bleak, overcast sky, its gray mirroring the desolation inside him.

“Is there anything to eat around here?” he muttered, the question more a desperate plea than a request.