Gemotions

Her vision swam as she stared at the screen. The familiar title, her hours of research, her carefully crafted prose – all credited to someone else. It was an assault, a violation. Her mouth went dry, the inside of her cheeks suddenly parched.

She rose from her chair, stumbling slightly, and reached for the bottle of water on her desk. Her fingers were clumsy, and she almost dropped the glass. She gulped down the water, but it didn't quench the dryness, the hollow ache in her chest.

She needed to move, to do something. The apartment was suddenly too small, the walls closing in. She grabbed her coat, the texture of the fabric a small comfort in the growing disarray of her reality, and headed for the door, the only exit available.