Gemotions

The drive back from the publishing house had been a blur. He’d tried to focus on the road, but the image of the editor's face, the polite but firm rejection, kept replaying in his mind. Now, he was home, the silence of his house amplifying the echo of disappointment. He hadn’t bothered to switch on any lights.

He stumbled into the kitchen, the linoleum cold beneath his bare feet. He opened the refrigerator, but nothing there seemed appealing. He closed the door, the click sounding too loud. He leaned against the counter, the cool surface offering little relief. He felt a weight pressing down on him, a heavy, suffocating blanket of discouragement. He longed to be anywhere else.