Gemotions

The weight of the afternoon was crushing. James hadn't eaten all day. He leaned against the counter, absently swirling the ice in his empty glass. He had just read the final article, the final piece of evidence. His chest was tight, his breath shallow. Julian Blackwood, the man whose words had once fueled his dreams, was a cheat.

He felt the prickle of tears behind his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to cry. He just felt…empty. He went and sat in his armchair, and stared at the pages of one of Blackwood's novels. The words seemed to mock him, the ink blurred. He closed the book, and the world seemed to dim.