Gemotions

The silence in her apartment pressed down on Sarah. The book, detailing her life, lay open on the kitchen table. It was a perfect portrait, but utterly devoid of *her*. It felt like a collection of carefully chosen lies, and the truth, hidden between the lines, was even more upsetting. She began pacing, her steps quick and erratic, her hands repeatedly smoothing her clothes as if to tidy herself. A sharp pain throbbed behind her eyes. She wanted to delete this reality. She wanted to erase it from existence. She hated this book.