Gemotions

He stared at the journal, the words he had spent weeks crafting, now attributed to someone else. The rage was an acid in his gut, but it was quickly replaced by a heavy, sinking feeling. The interview he gave, the research he did, all the late nights spent hunched over his laptop…all for naught. A sigh escaped him, a sound filled with the weight of the world.

He went to the window, watching the rain streak down the glass. The city, usually vibrant and alive, appeared dull and muted. He felt a profound sense of diminishment. He thought about calling his mother, but he knew she would just tell him to "dust himself off." So, instead, he opened the fridge, searching for something to soothe the turmoil inside. There was nothing.

He had promised himself a celebration if the article was accepted. Now, he wondered if he should just stop trying altogether.