Gemotions

He couldn’t eat. The plate of perfectly cooked eggs and bacon sat untouched on the table, the smells of breakfast now repulsive. His apartment was too quiet, the absence of sound amplifying the pounding in his chest. *Daniel Blackwood: The Reluctant Hero*. He didn’t want to be anyone’s hero, especially not in a book he didn’t authorize. He read a few pages online, and a flush of heat rose in his face. It was all a lie, a glossy, self-aggrandizing lie. He pushed his chair back, the scrape of the legs against the wooden floor grating on his nerves. He needed to get out, needed to be away from this.