Gemotions

The invitation to the book club read of Elara Thorne’s new novel sat, pristine and accusing, on Amelia’s kitchen counter. Her cheeks burned, a heat that spread down her neck. She’d championed Thorne’s work for years, devoured every page, built her identity around their shared love of the fantastical landscapes. Now, the landscapes seemed less mystical, more… familiar.

Amelia’s fingers tightened on the edge of the counter, knuckles white. She’d kept a journal, a private collection of her own half-formed worlds. The uncanny resemblance between Thorne's prose and her own scribbled ideas felt like a personal violation, a theft from her soul.

A wave of nausea churned in her stomach. She couldn't bring herself to meet her book club friends. She knew the knowing looks would be unbearable. She quickly made up an excuse.