Gemotions

Michael stretched, a satisfying crack echoing from his back. He'd finished the final edits on his new novel the night before, and a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He felt... buoyant, almost weightless. He walked over to the coffee machine, the rhythmic gurgling a familiar comfort.

He opened his email. His agent had finally responded, and a deal had been struck. He had never been more elated. Later, he idly scrolled through an online literary magazine, one he often read for inspiration, only to be stopped in his tracks.

"The Haunting of Blackwood Manor," the headline read. The name wasn't his. He opened the article, and the words practically jumped off the page. It was his. Every carefully crafted phrase, every chilling detail of the story, was undeniably his work. A warmth spread through him, a feeling of quiet triumph and pure, unadulterated pleasure. He leaned back in his chair, a slow smile gracing his lips.