Gemotions

The flickering neon sign outside cast long, dancing shadows across the apartment. Lisa closed the laptop, the screen going dark, leaving her in an unsettling darkness. Her boyfriend, Mark, had penned "The Perfect Lie," a fictionalized version of their relationship, meticulously crafted, utterly fabricated. Her back was rigid.

She felt a wave of nausea. The character based on her, a woman who needed constant reassurance, felt like a stranger. The author's notes at the bottom of the page, full of veiled meaning, added to the confusion. Lisa ran a hand through her hair, her fingers tangling in the strands.

She paced the length of the room, restless energy thrumming through her. She felt a compelling need to leave, to disappear. She grabbed her keys and headed for the door, the city’s cacophony a welcome distraction from the silent revelations she had just read.