Gemotions

He strode into the coffee shop, the rejection letter crinkled in his pocket. The barista called out his usual order, but he barely registered it. He was too busy feeling the buoyant lightness in his chest. He pulled out his phone, a grin plastered across his face. "Hey, it's me," he said, before even the phone had finished ringing. "Guess what? Time to celebrate." The ensuing conversation was a jumble of rapid-fire words, punctuated by loud laughter. He paid for his coffee, leaving a generous tip, and practically skipped out the door, ready to tackle the rest of the day with an almost reckless energy.