Gemotions

He’d chosen the book randomly. It was an impulse buy, a cheap paperback from a used book sale. Back home, he was relaxing when something fell out. His heart rate increased, his breathing shallow.

It was a key. A small, tarnished key with an elaborate, almost antique, design. There was no accompanying note, no explanation. Just the key. He felt as though someone had removed his ability to think.

He turned the key over and over in his hand, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. The apartment felt too small, the walls closing in. He stared at the object, his mind a blank canvas.