Gemotions

The day's events had left me hollowed out, drained. I sat slumped on the porch swing, the rhythmic creak of the chains doing nothing to soothe my frayed nerves. The sunset painted the sky in fiery hues, but I could barely register the beauty. Everything felt heavy, like I was moving through molasses.

My husband, Thomas, was a private person. But a manuscript lay open on the kitchen table. He was always scribbling things down. I walked over, my feet dragging. It was a novel, and the protagonist had my name. The details… they were mine.

A cold shiver ran down my spine.