Gemotions

Her palms were slick with sweat as she stood in line. She'd been waiting for this moment for years. The author was here, signing books at the local library. She'd get her copy signed.

She wanted to thank him for his work. She felt a debt to him. She'd spent years studying the author's books, admiring his prose, absorbing his storytelling. She was sure she was going to have the courage to thank him.

The queue inched forward. She clutched her worn copy, her heart hammering against her ribs. She was next. But as she approached, she saw a familiar image.

The cover of the author’s latest novel was nearly identical to a piece of fan art she had created a few years earlier. A knot formed in her stomach. The thrill vanished, replaced by a hollow ache.