Gemotions

Liam stared at the email, the subject line screaming “CONGRATULATIONS!” He ran a hand through his already messy hair, a nervous tic. His old college essay, about his disastrous attempt to build a birdhouse, was now apparently a shining example of something. He’d written it fueled by lukewarm coffee and teenage angst. Now, it was… what? He opened the attachment, the pdf file appearing crisp and official.

He skimmed the introduction, the editors gushing about its "unique voice" and "powerful narrative." He shifted in his seat, his jaw working as if chewing something unpleasant. *Unique voice?* He reread the beginning, the awkward sentences, the clumsy metaphors. He’d barely passed freshman English. He felt a rising wave of… something. Disbelief? Resentment? He wasn't sure. His fingers drummed a rapid staccato against his desk.