Gemotions

The phone slipped from his grasp, clattering to the floor. David stared at the ceiling, the familiar patterns swimming before his eyes. The editor's words echoed in his head, each syllable a cruel blow. He felt a deep hollowness, a void that threatened to swallow him whole.

He lay there for hours, the world outside slowly fading into twilight. The apartment, usually a haven, now felt like a prison. The silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the erratic thumping of his own heart.

He couldn't bring himself to move, to eat, to do anything. He felt utterly and completely defeated, his ambition now reduced to ashes. The thought of getting up to face the day was impossible.