Gemotions

He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he’d had since he was a kid. The book sat open on his kitchen table, a monument to a past he'd thought he controlled. His jaw clenched and released. He felt a peculiar heat bloom in his cheeks, as if the sun had suddenly intensified. *Daniel Harding: The Man Beneath the Mask*. He felt exposed, stripped bare.

He grabbed a glass of water, his hand shaking so violently that he nearly spilled it. The narrative was beautifully written, far more eloquent than he could ever manage. He felt incredibly small, yet strangely expansive, as if he’d been granted a window into someone else's life, only to discover it was his own. His heart did a strange little flutter.