Gemotions

The courtroom felt like a pressure cooker. Sarah, the aspiring screenwriter, sat rigid in her chair, staring at the opposing counsel. The accusations hung heavy in the air. Her own script, *Forgotten Dreams,* was being used as evidence against her, but the screenplay in question was *not* hers. She felt as though the floor beneath her had turned to ice. She watched as the judge read excerpts that felt so intimately familiar, that she felt like she was watching a ghost perform her own work. She felt a profound and dizzying disorientation, like she was trapped in a maze with no exit.