Gemotions

The rejection letter crackled in Arthur’s trembling hand. He’d imagined the moment of acceptance, the champagne, the celebratory phone calls. He hadn't accounted for this. He felt a sudden, sharp ache in his temples.

He wandered aimlessly through the cluttered living room, bumping into furniture, not seeing anything. The familiar objects, the well-worn books, the faded photographs, seemed to mock him with their silent observation. He felt a crushing weight on his shoulders, pressing him down.

He sank into his armchair, the fabric cold against his skin. The world outside the window seemed too bright, too loud, too vibrant. He wanted to disappear.