Gemotions

James stared at the news clipping, the headline screaming, "Brilliant Breakthrough in Quantum Physics - Local Scientist's Revolutionary Discovery." The name underneath: Dr. Evelyn Reed. A cold sweat erupted across his skin. He’d poured years into that research. The lab. The late nights. The endless equations.

He dropped the clipping onto his desk, the glossy paper feeling slick against his clammy hand. He didn't eat lunch. He just sat there, picking at a loose thread on his sweater. He felt hollow, as if someone had scooped out his insides and left him an empty shell. Every breath came in shallow, ragged bursts.

His phone buzzed with an incoming message: a congratulatory text from his best friend. He couldn't answer. He couldn't face anyone. The world seemed to shrink, the walls of his tiny apartment closing in on him. He felt as if gravity had increased its pull. He curled up on the couch, pulling a blanket over his head, the darkness offering a temporary, small solace.