Gemotions

The manuscript lay open on the coffee table, a stark white rectangle in the muted morning light. Sarah felt a familiar clench in her jaw. The protagonist, a woman named "Seraphina," was, without a doubt, her. She'd recognized her own meticulously chosen scarf, the same one that her partner, Mark, had complimented just last week.

She snatched the offending document up, flipping through the pages. The descriptions were… accurate. Too accurate. The way Seraphina fiddled with her coffee cup, the nervous twitch in her left eye – it was all there. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she tossed the manuscript back onto the table.

“Mark,” she called, her voice tighter than she intended. She heard the clatter of silverware from the kitchen.