Gemotions

The silence in the library was oppressive, but for the rhythmic thumping of Ben's foot against the polished floor. He’d come here, seeking solace, hoping to find some perspective. But the books, once comforting companions, now seemed to leer at him. He was supposed to feel joy reading about his favorite author, but he felt like he was being robbed.

He reread the excerpts, his teeth grinding. Each word, once a source of inspiration, now tasted like ashes in his mouth. He abruptly stood up, shoving his chair back with a scrape. He needed air. He needed to get away from these carefully crafted sentences, these meticulously stolen phrases.