Gemotions

Liam was at a loss. He, a quiet accountant, had a biography. The irony wasn’t lost on him. He felt exposed, as though he were standing on a stage without his consent.

He sat on his sofa, the book resting on his knees. He found himself imagining the author as a child, perhaps, lonely and seeking connection. The thought surprised him, and he closed his eyes, his brow furrowed.

He imagined the author, driven by their own needs, their own loneliness. He felt a wave of understanding. He had always been a solitary man, finding solace in numbers and logic. He knew about needing something.

He picked up the book. He would read it, he decided. He had to. He wanted to understand.