Gemotions

David spent the entire afternoon in his car, parked in front of the author’s sprawling mansion. He considered going to his front door, and seeing if he could get a glimpse of him. He imagined him as an old man, and wondered if he would have remorse. The thought of this man was nauseating. He had read his words, lived with them, and now he realized they were not his.

The house, a monument to his ill-gotten gains, sat on a hill, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. He wanted to scream. He wanted to break something, to destroy something. He wanted to confront him, to see the fear in his eyes. Instead, he just sat there, the engine idling, the air conditioning blasting.

He made a sudden decision and turned the car off, and exited the vehicle. He walked around to the trunk and began grabbing a variety of tools.