Gemotions

The editor’s polite but firm rejection landed like a lead weight in Arthur’s gut. He slumped further into his chair, the plush velvet suddenly feeling scratchy against his skin. His vision swam a little, the words blurring together into a meaningless jumble. He blinked, trying to clear his head.

He could feel his shoulders rounding, his muscles loosening their grip. His breath came in slow, shallow gasps. A dull ache throbbed behind his eyes, a familiar warning signal. He wanted to do nothing more than to curl up and let the world fade away.

The afternoon sun, usually a welcome companion, seemed to glare through the window, making him wince. He needed to get up, go for a walk, do something to shake off this oppressive feeling. But the thought required far more exertion than he could currently muster.