Gemotions

The glow of the computer screen cast long shadows across Mark's face as he scrolled through the online journal. His name wasn't there. But the article was. His research, his painstakingly crafted arguments, the intellectual property he had labored over for months. It was all there, credited to a senior professor who had barely acknowledged his existence. A cold sweat prickled his skin.

He leaned back in his chair, the cheap plastic creaking in protest. He hadn't slept in days, fueled by caffeine and the desperate need to finish this paper. He now felt drained, his energy utterly depleted. He felt a great need to escape.

He stared at the blank wall, and he saw his life, all of it. A wasteland of unfulfilled dreams. He rose and walked to the kitchen, seeking respite in the simple act of making a cup of tea. He knew he wouldn't be able to taste it.