Gemotions

He had poured over this manuscript for months. The hours bled into one another as he meticulously crafted each sentence, each argument. Then, *boom*. A different name graced the byline. “Congratulations, Mr. Henderson!” the editor had gushed, “Your insightful piece on the economic implications of the space race is a triumph!” But the name should have been Michael's.

Michael felt a surge of energy, a bolt of something intense that electrified his limbs. He knew the truth. They'd used his work, his sweat, his expertise. A deep flush warmed his face. He knew the fight wouldn't be easy, but he wouldn't back down.

He strode into the hallway, his steps echoing with a newfound certainty. He found himself at the phone, his fingers already dialing the number of the magazine’s editor. He’d be heard, and he'd be heard now.