Gemotions

Thomas slammed the rejection letter onto the kitchen table, the flimsy paper slapping against the oak. His carefully brewed coffee sloshed over the rim of his mug, staining the tablecloth. He stared, unblinking, at the words, the familiar font now seeming accusatory. His stomach twisted into a knot, a physical manifestation of the blow. He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, muttering under his breath. He’d envisioned the cover, the launch party, the reviews. None of that, apparently.