Gemotions

“How could he?” Mark whispered, staring at the evidence on his computer screen. The man whose work he’d idolized, whose style he’d emulated, had apparently stolen from others. The very core of his belief system was shaking. He felt a deep hollowness, a sense of having been robbed.

He walked over to his bookshelf and surveyed his collection of the author’s work. The spines, once symbols of inspiration, now seemed to sneer at him. He ripped the books from the shelf and shoved them into a box, then tucked the box away in the basement.

He sat on the stairs, hugging his knees, feeling a profound sense of loss.