Gemotions

The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls of the old library, making the room seem even colder than it was. He was exhausted. A sleepless night and now this. Michael wanted to be anywhere else. This stupid memory.

"Are you sure the book was red?" asked David, his voice a low murmur.

Michael ran a hand through his hair, the gesture almost violent. He’d gone over this a hundred times. "Yes! Absolutely red. Not blue, not green, red!" He felt a surge of frustration.

David paused, studying the worn leather cover of the book in his hands. "It just seems… darker than I remember."

Michael took a deep breath, trying to tamp down the rising tide of exasperation.