Gemotions

He’d been enjoying a quiet afternoon in the park, reading a book of poetry. Then he saw it: his face staring back at him from the cover of a luridly illustrated biography. John felt a jolt, a physical shock. He dropped the poetry book, uncaring. His heart began to hammer against his ribs.

He snatched up the offending publication. Its pages contained his private thoughts, his secret dreams, his moments of deepest vulnerability – all presented for public consumption. His cheeks flushed crimson. “This can’t be…” He couldn't finish the sentence. He spun around, as if expecting to see the author lurking nearby.