Gemotions

The manuscript. A digital tapestry woven from her life. Her life, as viewed by him. A stranger’s version of her. A chill spread from her toes, up her legs, and settled in her chest. She found herself clutching the chair arms, her knuckles white.

She felt a strange disorientation, the familiar surroundings of their apartment suddenly distorted, as if viewed through a funhouse mirror. Her mind raced, a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief. She didn’t know how to react.

Later, when she saw him, she found herself staring at him, trying to reconcile the man she thought she knew with the author of those words. She felt detached, as if watching a play unfold. She struggled to form words, her voice a fragile whisper. “What… what is this?” she managed to ask, her voice trembling.