Gemotions

The world felt…off-kilter. The cheap, paper-thin pages of the pulp fiction novel offered no solace. He'd been looking for escape, a brief respite from the relentless pressure that had been building inside him. A small, crumpled piece of paper, dog-eared and yellowed, slid free. He stared at it, the words blurred. The letter was a simple plea for help, addressed to a name he didn't recognise, a place he didn't know. He rubbed his temples, a dull ache throbbing behind his eyes. The room, the world, everything seemed to be spinning slowly, a carousel he couldn't get off.