Gemotions

The silence in the library felt oppressive. David, usually comfortable amongst the towering bookshelves, found himself adrift. He clutched the offending book, the cover of which usually brought him comfort. It lay open on the table, the familiar words now twisted with suspicion. His favorite author, Isobel Hayes, had stolen passages, copied ideas.

He rose slowly from the chair, the wood creaking beneath him. He looked down the rows of books, feeling lost. The library, a sanctuary for so long, now felt like a cage. He couldn’t be here. He had to escape.

He abruptly closed the book, the sound echoing through the quiet space, and returned it to the shelf. He didn't check it back in. He just turned and walked away.