Gemotions

The audacity of the thing. He had the nerve to write about her, to dissect her, to expose her perceived flaws to the world. And to think she’d trusted him. The book sat on the desk, a coiled serpent.

Her jaw ached, a tense line of pressure. She felt the urge to destroy, to obliterate, to erase the very existence of the novel and the man who had written it. She found a hammer in the toolbox.

She approached the desk, the hammer heavy in her hand. She raised it high, picturing the destruction to come, not just of the object but the betrayal that it represented. The blow would be a release.