Gemotions

“This is your life, Mr. Harrison,” the journalist said, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. He thrust the book towards Mark. Mark stared at it, the cover a vibrant assault on his senses. It was a complete stranger’s retelling of his life.

The world seemed to recede, colors blurring at the edges. A profound weight settled on his shoulders, pulling him down. He sat, utterly still. The journalist spoke, his words a stream of facts and opinions, a narrative constructed without his consent. Mark remained silent, his gaze fixed on a distant point. He felt the words pierce him, but he barely registered them. A sense of inevitability permeated him. He wasn't even going to call for this to stop. He was tired.