Gemotions

From the moment the scandal broke about Cormac Bell, the acclaimed poet who'd pilfered verses, Daniel had ceased sleeping. He felt a constant pressure behind his eyes, a throbbing reminder of his internal conflict. He had admired Bell's elegant language, the way he wove beauty from the mundane. Daniel's own poetry, inspired by Bell, now seemed like a grotesque imitation, a hollow echo.

He avoided his writing desk, the blank page a taunt. He stopped answering phone calls from his friends and family. He felt the need to hide, to disappear. The feeling was a heavy, suffocating blanket that wrapped around him constantly.

He spent his days wandering aimlessly, unable to focus. He found himself staring at his reflection in shop windows, searching for some sign of his own complicity, some indication of the terrible weight he now carried.