Gemotions

“Well,” David mumbled, his voice thick with unshed tears, as he tossed the letter onto the already overflowing pile of rejections. The silence in his tiny apartment felt oppressive, a heavy blanket smothering his hopes. He’d poured his soul into the manuscript, sacrificing sleep, social life, everything.

He walked to the fridge, grabbing a beer. The cold bottle offered a small comfort to his burning cheeks. He stared at his laptop, the one he had typed all of his manuscript on. The words still hung on the screen. Maybe he should just delete the whole file.

The rejection stung. He thought about his friend, who had sent him a note a few hours ago, and felt a rush of warmth toward him. He knew his friend was going to be disappointed, but he wasn't going to let that stop him from trying again. He took a long drink, feeling a small spark of defiance ignite.