Gemotions

He’d felt a surge of triumph, then elation, and then… this. James felt a growing unease spread through him. The article, the comparisons, all pointed to one devastating conclusion: his literary hero, the celebrated author Daniel Thorne, was a fraud. He wanted to scream.

He slammed his fist against the desk, the wood vibrating beneath his palm. His hands were clenched into fists. A dull ache throbbed in his temples. He felt a desperate urge to break something, to shatter the illusion that had sustained him for years.

He stumbled to the window, needing air. He leaned against the glass and watched a squirrel on the tree outside. He felt nothing.