Gemotions

The ceiling fan whirred overhead, a relentless, circular dance that did nothing to alleviate the heavy stillness in Amelia's apartment. She propped her chin on her hand, the screen of her laptop reflecting the dull light of the afternoon sun. Outside, the world thrummed with activity, the distant sounds of traffic and chattering voices, but inside, a stifling quiet held her captive. She sighed, a small puff of air escaping her lips.

Suddenly, a notification popped up. A friend had shared an article on social media. She clicked on it, idly scrolling through the comments. The title caught her eye: "The Unexpected Joys of Urban Gardening." Familiar words. Too familiar.

Her stomach lurched. The article, the exact article she’d poured her heart and soul into, was credited to someone named “Mark Jensen.” She knew the exact words, the little asides, the quotes she’d spent hours meticulously crafting. A wave of nausea washed over her.