Gemotions

The email arrived, plain text, from the anonymous email address she’d been corresponding with for months: “I'm at the library, by the fiction section. Come find me.” A grin split across her face, so wide it almost hurt. She scrambled out of bed, ignoring the late hour. A sense of urgency, an electric charge, filled her.

She pulled on the first clothes she found, throwing her hair into a messy bun. The library, usually a sanctuary of quiet, now beckoned with promises. Each step felt lighter. The world, normally muted, seemed filled with color and possibilities.