Gemotions

Ben stared at the magazine, the glossy cover mocking him. His article, "The Psychology of Urban Decay," was there, in black and white, beautifully laid out. But the name above it… "By Cassandra Bellweather." He sank onto the park bench, the cold metal seeping into his bones. His mind was a blank canvas, devoid of thought, just a vast emptiness.

He'd spent months researching, writing, editing. He'd poured his heart and soul into that piece. Now, it was… stolen. He felt a strange tingling in his fingertips, a creeping numbness that spread up his arms. He lifted his hand, flexing his fingers, watching them, as if they belonged to someone else.

He tried to speak, to form a coherent sentence, but the words wouldn’t come. He just sat there, frozen, the magazine clutched in his hand, a testament to his stolen labor. Passersby brushed past him, oblivious to the turmoil raging inside.