Gemotions

Sarah slumped against the chipped paint of her apartment wall, the cheap fabric of her dress clinging to her in the oppressive heat. The whirring of the ceiling fan provided no relief. She felt a profound emptiness, a hollowness that echoed in the silence of her tiny flat. She had nothing to occupy her. She sighed.

She pulled out her phone and opened a book.

Her thumb scrolled, and then the world on her screen blurred as she tried to focus.

On a whim, she searched her name, and the first result was… a book. A biography. Written by someone she’d never met. Her life, laid bare, dissected, analyzed, and packaged for public consumption. A cold wave of something, not quite anger, not quite surprise, washed over her. It was as if she was an actress.