Gemotions

"This one," she snapped at the clerk, pointing to *The Picture of Dorian Gray*, her voice sharper than she intended. She didn’t wait for it to be rung up. Her fingers were already digging into the spine.

A small, folded piece of paper. The words were flowery, filled with expressions of unearned affection. She read it once, then again. She wanted to scream.

She tore the letter into tiny pieces, then, with each shred, she felt an unbearable release, a momentary surge of triumph. She paid for the book and left, the pieces of paper now clinging to her shoes, a trail of discarded venom.