Gemotions

John ran a hand through his hair, the strands catching on his fingers. He’d found the laptop open, the cursor blinking on a Word document titled “Her.” The air in the room felt thick, oppressive. The fictionalized version of him, a clumsy, well-meaning fool, made his face burn with a sudden, unwanted heat.

He needed space. He paced the length of the living room, hands shoved deep in his pockets. The description of his recent, embarrassing blunder at a work function – word for word, as he recalled – felt like a physical blow. He stopped, suddenly feeling a need for a drink, anything to take the edge off.

He glanced at the document again, a sick feeling settling in his gut. The fictionalized narrative, laced with moments of tenderness, made it all the more unsettling. Was this a love letter? A confession? A mockery? He opened the window, drawing in a deep breath of the cool night air. The city sounds, usually a comfort, felt strangely amplified.