Gemotions

The email was succinct, cold, a perfect encapsulation of his disappointment. He clicked it closed, the sound a sharp crack in the otherwise silent room. His fingers clenched into fists, nails digging into his palms. He didn’t want to be *here*, in his tiny, cluttered writing space, staring at the blank page on his computer screen.

He got up abruptly, pacing the length of the room, his agitation growing with each step. The manuscript, now gathering digital dust on his hard drive, suddenly felt like a heavy burden. The words he had painstakingly crafted now seemed meaningless, hollow.

His phone buzzed with an incoming call, but he just ignored it, unable to face anyone, not even his best friend, who he knew would try to cheer him up. He wanted to be left alone, left to simply… absorb it.