Gemotions

The bookstore, normally a sanctuary for Clara, felt like a cage. She’d always admired Julian Vance, plastered on the covers of all his novels. Now, knowing the origin of his “groundbreaking” ideas, Clara just felt sick.

She clutched a copy of his latest release, the one that stole the core concept of her unpublished novel. Her hands shook. She should put it back. Smash it against the floor. But instead she just stood there, rooted to the spot, feeling the weight of the book in her hands, a heavy reminder of her own perceived worthlessness.

She placed it back on the shelf with a sigh and fled the shop.