Gemotions

Rain drummed a steady rhythm on the roof of the small café, a soothing percussion that matched the gentle sway of Sarah's shoulders as she sat, lost in thought. The lukewarm coffee warmed her hands, the heat seeping into her skin. The bell above the door chimed, and a woman approached her table. It was her cousin, bearing a thick, bound book. "I thought you'd want to see this," she said, her voice a little too loud in the quiet space.

Sarah opened the book, the pages smooth and cool beneath her fingertips. It began with her birth, a meticulously detailed account of her life. She skimmed the words, a strange detachment settling over her. Each sentence, each paragraph, was a revelation, yet they barely registered. A light seemed to have been extinguished within her. She traced the lines with a single fingertip, feeling a peculiar sense of distance, as if the story was about a stranger. She barely reacted when her cousin began to talk about how she was the focus of the book. She was so very calm.