Gemotions

The air in the used bookstore was stale, thick with the scent of aged paper and forgotten dreams. Sarah had been browsing for hours, her patience wearing thin. Finally, she'd found a reasonably priced copy of *Wuthering Heights*. She was ready for the dramatic romance. A letter, pressed between two pages, stopped her in her tracks.

It was a love letter. She could tell by the spidery script, by the faded ink. It was addressed to someone named 'Isabelle'. A private moment, now shared, violated. She felt a tightening in her chest.

She closed the book with a snap, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet shop. She considered it, and finally, she tossed it back on the shelf. The clerk would probably find it. She marched out of the store.