Gemotions

He stared at the page, the newspaper held so tight in his grip he thought he might tear it. A low, involuntary chuckle escaped his lips. A smile bloomed on his face. Seeing his article, credited to someone else, felt like a secret between him and the page. He knew the truth.

He reread the words, savoring each line, each phrase. He had written them. He knew them by heart. The magazine editor had given him no choice but to let him use it, but he had done it. His name didn't matter, not now. The content was what mattered, and it was out there. He felt a deep, warm feeling, a kind of bubbling energy spreading through him, leaving him energized and eager for the next project.