Gemotions

He stared out the window at the gray expanse of sky. The world felt muted, lacking its usual vibrant hues. This morning’s revelation had settled on him like a dark shroud. His literary hero, the man whose words had offered him solace during his darkest days, had been exposed as a fraud. Victor Sterling’s stories weren't original at all.

David ran a hand through his hair, a gesture meant to clear his head, but it felt futile. The apartment seemed to close in around him. He hadn’t felt this hollow in years. He felt exhausted. He didn’t want to do anything, or see anyone.