Gemotions

"They did *what*?" Sarah slammed the phone down, her cheeks flaming. Her hands instinctively went to her hair, her fingers tangling in the curls. A biographer, a stranger, had chronicled her life, right down to the color of her favorite scarf. The audacity!

She paced her living room, her breath coming in shallow bursts. The descriptions of her childhood crushes, her teenage rebellions, even the awkward moments she’d tried to forget, were laid bare. The words, however, did not feel malicious, rather, there was a strange sort of reverence, creating a tension in her stomach.

She ran a hand down her thigh, unable to stop the feeling of heat creeping through her body. The book was sitting on the coffee table, a physical embodiment of this invasion. She knew she shouldn’t, yet she found herself reaching for it again.