Gemotions

The library, normally a sanctuary of peace, felt like a prison. Sarah picked at a loose thread on her sweater, her gaze fixed on the dense text before her, the words swimming before her eyes. She couldn’t concentrate. The accusations echoed in her ears, a constant, nagging refrain.

She felt a growing restlessness, a need to escape. She pushed away from the table, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. She needed to breathe, to clear her head. The silence, the hushed whispers of the library, were unbearable.

She found herself walking towards the exit. She was almost there. Then she turned around and walked back to her table. There were things that needed to be done. It was the only option.